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AFLOAT IN TEE FOREST; 


OR, 


A VOYAGE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 


CAPT. MAYNE REID, 

> > ' 

AUTHOR OF “THE DESERT HOME,” “THE OCEAN WAIFS,” ETC. 



TOtlj Illustrations. 


A NEW EDITION, 



Successors to James Mii.ler, 
813 Broadway. 

1885. 








Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 
TICKNOK AND FIELDS, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 


Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
THOMAS It. KNOX & CO., 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


New York, January 1st, I860. 


Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.:— 

I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exclusive right of 
publication, in the United States, of all my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known 
as Boys’ Novels. 


MAYNE ItEID. 



TROW'3 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 1 , 
NEW YORK. 





MEMOIR OF MAYNE REID, 


No one who has written hooks for the young during the 
present century ever had so large a circle of readers as 
Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum¬ 
stances to write the books by which he is chiefly known. 
His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with 
the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, 
which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races. 
Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with 
the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he 
made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, 
and whose battles he helped to win. He was probably 
more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of 
the United States forty years ago than any native-born 
American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the 
life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the’kind that casual 
biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it 
would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now 
merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses 
of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed 
in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent 
obscurity which is the lot of most men, and is their hap¬ 
piness, if they only knew it. 

Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows: 
He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son of 
a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class 
which Goldsmith has described so freshly in the ‘ ‘ Deserted 
Village,” and was highly thought of for his labors among 
the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, 
to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designed 
his son Mayne for the ministry, in the hope, no doubt, 
that he would be his successor. But nature had some¬ 
thing to say about that, as well as liis good father. He 
began to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 

1 



he was drawn in another direction. Always a great reader, 
his favorite books were descriptions of travel in foreign 
lands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, 
the people, and the resources of America. The spell which 
these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love of 
adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and 
inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. 
At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and 
girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the 
shores of the Old World for the New. Following the 
spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was 
probably a more promising field for a young man of his 
talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged 
in business. The nature of this business is not stated, 
further than it was that of a trader; but whatever it was 
it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into 
the interior of the country, which was almost a terra in¬ 
cognita. Sparsely settled, where settled at all, it was still 
clothed in primeval verdure—here in the endless reach of 
savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far 
away to the North and the West in those monotonous 
ocean-like levels of land for which the speech of England 
has no name—the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, 
not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whose 
hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was; 
hunters and trappers, who had turned their backs upon 
civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of 
doubtful or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con¬ 
venient to leave their country for their country’s good ; 
and scattered about liardy pioneer communities from East¬ 
ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration 
which is still drawing the course of empire westward. 
Travelling in a country like this, and among people like 
these, Mayne Reid passed five years of his early manhood. 
He was at home wherever he went, and never more so 
than when among the Indians of the Red River territory, 
with whom he spent several months, learning their lan¬ 
guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and 
beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for 
the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted 
with them, and • night after night sat by their blazing 
camp-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves 
and the quaint legends of the medicine men. There was 
that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead 
this life at this time, and whether he knew it or not it 

2 


educated his genius as no other life could have done. It 
familiarized him with a large extent of country in the 
South and West; it introduced him to men and manners 
which existed nowhere else; and it revealed to him the 
secrets of Indian life and character. 

There was another side, however, to Mayne Reid than 
that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of five 
years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We 
find him next in Philadelphia, where he began to con¬ 
tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers 
and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate 
city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer 
was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm¬ 
hearted, he made many friends there among journalists 
and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, 
whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and 
concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote 
with loving tenderness. 

The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not 
what one would expect from a man of letters, though it 
was just what might have been expected from a man of 
his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the 
time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army 
with which the United States speedily crushed the forces 
of the sister Republic—Mexico. He obtained a commis¬ 
sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery 
and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe 
wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- 
pultepec—a terrible battle which practically ended the 
war. 

A second episode of a similar character, but with a more 
fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It 
grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on 
our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun¬ 
garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power 
of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen¬ 
dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, 
and fired the heart of Captain Mayne Reid, who buckled 
on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with 
a body of volunteers to aid the Hungarians in their struggles 
for independence. They were too late, for hardly had 
they reached Paris before they learned that all was over: 
Gorgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary was 
crushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reid 
betook himself to London. 


3 


The life of the Mayne Reid in whom we are most in¬ 
terested—Mayne Reid, the author—began at this time, 
when he was in his thirty-first year, and ended only on 
the day of his death, October 21, 1883. It covered one- 
third of a century, and was, when compared with that 
which had preceded it, uneventful, if not devoid of in¬ 
cident. There is not much that needs be told—not much, 
indeed, that can be told—in the life of a man of letters 
like Captain Mayne Reid. It is written in his books. 
Mayne Reid was one of the best known authors of his 
time—differing in this from many authors who are popu¬ 
lar without being known—and in the walk of fiction which 
he discovered for himself he is an acknowledged mas¬ 
ter. His reputation did not depend upon the admiration 
of the millions of young people who read his books, but 
upon the judgment of mature critics, to whom his delinea¬ 
tions of adventurous life were literature of no common 
order. His reputation as a story-teller was widely recog¬ 
nized on the Continent, where he was accepted as an 
authority in regard to the customs of the pioneers and the 
guerilla warfare of the Indian tribes, and was warmly 
praised for his freshness, his novelty, and his hardy origi¬ 
nality. The people of France and Germany delighted in 
this soldier-writer. “ There was not a word in his books 
which a school-boy could not safely read aloud to his 
mother and sisters.” So says a late English critic, to which 
another adds, that if he has somewhat gone out of fashion 
of late years, the more’s the pity for the school-boy of the 
period. What Defoe is in Robinson Crusoe—realistic idyl 
of island solitude—that, in his romantic stories of wilder¬ 
ness life, is his great scholar, Captain Mayne Reid. 

R. H. Stoddard. 


4 


CONTENTS 


0*A2TM Pi.GH 

I. The Brothers at Home. 1 

II. The Brothers Abroad. 5 

III. The Galatea.,9 

IV. Drifting with the Current .... 12 

V. The Galatea Aground.15 

VI. The Monkey-Pots.19 

VII. The Gapo.22 

VHI. The Echente.25 

IX. An Impassable Barrier ...... 29 

X. A Tropical Tornado ..32 

XI. The Galatea treed.87 

Xn. A Dangerous Ducking.89 

XIII. A Consultation in the Tree-Top .... 42 

XIV. A Fracas heard from Afar ..... 46 

XV. The Jarara'ca. 47 

XVI. Hold On.61 

XVn. The Paroquet.54 

XVIII. The Lliana unloosed.66 

XIX. Serpent Fascination. 60 

XX. The Water Arcade. 63 

XXI. The Syringe-Tree ... ,66 

XXII. A Battle with Birds . . . . 68 

XXIII. A Contest with Cudgels.71 

XXIV. Chased by a Jacare.74 

XXV. A Saurian Digression. 77 

XXVI. Treed by an Alligator.80 

XXVII. An Aqua-arboreal Journey ... .82 

XXVIII A Timely Warning.84 



















tv 


CONTEN'I S. 


XXIX. 

Improvised Swimming-Belts 


. 

. 


• 


• 


• 

88 

XXX. 

Alligator Lore 

• 

• 


• 


• 


• 


90 

XXXI. 

A Ride upon a Reptile 


• 

• 


• 


• 


. 

95 

XXXII. 

Taking to the Water 

• 

. 


• 


• 


« 


98 

XXXIII. 

A Half-choked Swimmer . 


• 



• 


• 


. 

100 

XXXIV. 

A Supper on Broiled Squab 

• 

• 


• 


• 


« 


103 

XXXV. 

Once more in the Water . 


• 



• 


• 


. 

106 

XXXVI. 

The IgarApe 

• 

. 




• 


• 


108 

XXXVII. 

About Humming-Birds 


. 

. 


• 


• 


• 

110 

XXXVIII. 

A Cul-de-Sac . 










113 

XXXIX. 

The Brazil-Nuts . 


• 

. 


• 


• 


. 

116 

XL. 

A Travelling Party of Guaribas 


. 


• 


• 


118 

XLI. 

The Monkey Mother . 


« 

. 


• 


• 


. 

122 

XL1I. 

The Mundurucu discourses of 

Monkey8 

• 


• 


126 

XLIII. 

Two Slumberers Ducked . 


. 

. 


• 




. 

130 

XLIV. 

Open Water 










133 

XLV. 

The Jacanas .... 










136 

XLVI. 

A Companion left Behind 


• 


• 


• 


• 


142 

XLVII. 

The Guide abandoned 


. 

• 


• 


• 


• 

144 

XLVIII. 

Round and Round 


• 


• 


« 


• 


147 

XLIX. 

Going by Guess . 


. 

• 


• 


• 


« 

149 

L. 

Guided by a Shadow 


• 


• 


• 


• 


153 

LI. 

Around the Edge 


• 

• 


• 


• 


• 

154 

LII. 

The Massaranduba . 




• 


• 


• 


156 

LIII. 

A Vegetable Cow 


• 

• 


• 


• 


% 

169 

LIV. 

A Milk Supper . 




• 


• 


• 


161 

LV. 

Only a Dead-Wood 


• 

• 


• 


• 


m 

163 

LVI. 

The Sterculiads 


• 


• 


• 


• 


167 

LVII. 

Chased by Tocandeiras 


• 

• 


• 


• 


m 

169 

LVIII. 

A Log that would n’t roll 


• 


9 


• 


• 


171 

LIX. 

Drowning the Tocandeiras 



* 


• 


• 



173 

LX. 

The Festival of the Tocandeiras 


# 


• 


• 


176 

LXI. 

Amazonian Ants . 





• 




. 

178 

LXII. 

The Ants still excited 

• 





• 


• 


183 

LX1II. 

The Tamandua: The Ant-Thrush 

• 


• 


• 



185 

LXIV. 

Ant-Eaters — Biped and Quadruped 

• 


• 




189 

LXV. 

The Chase of the Tamandua 

. 

• 


• 


i 



191 











CONTENTS, 


V 


LXVI. 

Roast Ant-Eater . 


• 






192 

LXVII. 

The Juaroua 

. 

• 


• 

• 



196 

LXVIII. 

A Fish-Cow at Pasture 


• 


• 




196 

LXIX.. 

The Pashuba Spear . 

. 



. 

• 


. 

198 

LXX. 

Curing the Fish-Cow . 


4 


4 




201 

LX XI. 

A Sail, of Skin . 

. 






, 

206 

LXXII. 

Becalmed .... 








208 

LXXIII. 

The Piranhas 

. 



. 

• 


. 

212 

LXXIV. 

A Stowaway .... 


. 


» 




215 

LXXV. 

The' Spirit of the Waters 

. 



• 

. 


, 

218 

LXXVI. 

An Unexpected Escape 


. 


• 




221 

LXXVII. 

History of the Anaconda 

. 



. 

. 


. 

223 

LXXVIII. 

A Snake* 4 Yarn” . 








226 

LXXIX. 

St. Patrick’s Performance 

. 



. 

. 


. 

231 

LXXX. 

Lights Ahead 


. 


• 




2C5 

LXXXI. 

An Aerlvl Village . 

. 



. 

. 


. 

240 

LXXXII. 

A Slow Retreat: in the Arcads 






243 

LXXXIII. 

Following the Float 

. 



. 

. 


. 

248 

LXXXIV. 

A Cannibal captured . 


. 


• 




251 

LXXXV. 

A Day stent in Shadow . 

. 



. 

4 


. 

258 

LXXXVI. 

The Cry of the Jaguar 


. 


• 




261 

LXXXVII. 

The Moon put out 

. 



. 

. 


. 

266 

I, XXXVIII. 

An Hour of Suspense . 


. 


• 




267 

LXXXIX. 

Scuttling the Canoes 

. 



. 

. 


. 

270 

XC. 

The Loo left Behind . 


. 


4 




274 

XCI. 

The Enemy in Sight . 

• 



. 

4 


. 

278 

XCII. 

The Chase .... 








281 

XCIII. 

Conclusion . 

. 

« 



u 


. 

2*1 










/ 































AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE BROTHERS AT HOME. 

TIIWENTY years ago, not twenty miles from the Land’s 
I End, there lived a Cornish gentleman named Trevan- 
nion. Just twenty years ago he died, leaving to lament him 
a brace of noble boys, whose mother all three had mourned, 
with like profound sorrow, but a short while before. 

“ Squire ” Trevannion, as he was called, died in his own 
house, where his ancestors for hundreds of years before him 
had dispensed hospitality. None of them, however, had en¬ 
tertained so profusely as he; or rather improvidently, it 
might be said, since in less than three months after his death 
the old family mansion, with the broad acres appertaining to 
it, passed into the hands of an alien, leaving his two sons, 
Ralph and Richard, landless, houseless, and almost power¬ 
less. One thousand pounds apiece was all that remained to 
them out of the wreck of the patrimonial estates. It was 
whispered that even this much was not in reality theirs, but 
had been given to them by the very respectable solicitor who 
had managed their father’s affairs, and had furthermore man¬ 
aged to succeed him in the ownership of a property worth a 
rental of three thousand a year. 

Any one knowing the conditions under which the young 
Trevannions received their two thousand pounds must have 

1 A 



2 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


believed ii to be a gift, since it was handed o\er to them 
by the family solicitor with the private understanding that 
they were to use it in pushing their fortunes elsewhere, —• 
anywhere except in Cornwall! 

The land-pirate w'ho had plucked them — for in reality 
had they been plucked — did not wish them to stay at home, 
divested, as they were, of their valuable plumage. He had 
appropriated their fine feathers, and cared not for the naked 
bodies of the birds. 

There were those in Cornwall who suspected foul play 
in the lawyer’s dealings with the young Trevannions, — 
imong others, the victims themselves. But what could they 
do? They were utterly ignorant of their late father’s af¬ 
fairs,— indeed, with any affairs that did not partake of the 
nature of “ sports.” A solicitor “ most respectable,” — a 
phrase that has become almost synonymous with rascality, — 
a regular church-goer, — accounts kept with scrupulous ex- 
actness, — a man of honest face, distinguished for probity 
of speech and integrity of heart, — w r hat could the Trevan* 
nions do ? What more than the Smiths and the Browns and 
the Joneses, who, notwithstanding their presumed greater 
skill in the ways of a wicked lawyer world, are duped every 
day in a similar manner. It is an old and oft-repeated story, 

— a tale too often told, and too often true, — that of the 
family lawyer and his confiding client, standing in the re¬ 
lationship of robber and robbed. 

The two children of Squire Trevannion could do nothing 
to save or recover their paternal estate. Caught in the net 
of legal chicanery, they were forced to yield, as other squires* 
children have had to do, and make the best of a bad matter, 

— forced to depart from a home that had been held by 
Trevannions perhaps since the Phoenicians strayed thither¬ 
ward in search of their shining tin. 

It sore grieved them to separate from the scenes of their 
youth; but the secret understanding with the solicitor re- 



THE BROTHERS AT HOWE. 


ijuireJ that sacrifice. By staying at home a still greater 
might be called for, — subsistence in penury, and, worse than 
all, in a humiliating position; for, notwithstanding the open 
house long kept by their father, his friends had disappeared 
with his guests. Impelled by these thoughts, the brothers 
resolved to go forth into the wide world, and seek fortune 
wherever it seemed most likely they should find it. 

They were at this period something more than mere chil¬ 
dren. Ralph had reached within twelve months of being 
twenty. Richard was his junior by a couple of years. Theif 
book-education had been good; the practice of manly sports 
had imparted to both of them a physical strength that fitted 
them for toil, either of the mind or body. They were equal 
to a tough struggle, either in the intellectual or material 
world; and to this they determined to resign themselves. 

For a time they debated between themselves where they 
should go, and what do. The army and navy came under 
their consideration. With suoh patronage as their father’s 
former friends could command, and might still exert in favor 
of their fallen fortunes, a commission in either army or navy 
«vas not above their ambition. But neither felt mueh in¬ 
clined towards a naval or military life ; the truth being, that 
a thought had taken shape in their minds leading them to 
a different determination. 

Their deliberations ended by each of them proclaiming 
a resolve, — almost sealing it with a vow,— that they would 
enter into some more profitable, though perhaps less pre¬ 
tentious, employment than that of either soldiering or sai- 
loring; that they would toil — with their hands, if need be 
— until they should accumulate a sufficient sum to return 
and recover the ancestral estate from the grasp of the ava¬ 
ricious usurper. They did not know how it was to be 
done; but, young, strong, and hopeful, they believed it 
might be done,— with time, patience, and industry to aid 
them in the execution. 


4 AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 

“ Where shall we go ? ” inquired Richard, the younger of 
the two. “ To America* where every poor man appears to 
prosper ? With a thousand each to begin the world with, 
we might do well there. What say you, Ralph ? ” 

“America is a country where men seem to thrive best 
who have nothing to begin the world with. You mean 
North America, — the United States, — I suppose ? ” 

“I do.” 

“ I don’t much like the United States as a home, — not 
because it is a republic, for I believe that is the only just 
form of government, whatever our aristocratic friends may 
say. I object to it simply because I wish to go south, — 
to some part of the tropical world, where one may equally 
be in the way of acquiring a fortune.” 

“ Is there such a place ? ” 

“ There is.” 

“ Where, brother ? ” 

“Peru. Anywhere along the Sierra of the Andes from 
Chili to the Isthmus of Panama. As Cornish men we should 
adopt the specialty of our province, and become miners. The 
Andes mountains will give us that opportunity, where, in¬ 
stead of gray tin, we may delve for yellow gold. What say 
you to South America ? ” 

“I like the thought of South America, — nothing would 
please me better than going there. But I must confess, 
brother, I have no inclination for the occupation you speak 
of. I had rather be a merchant than a miner.” 

“ Don’t let that penchant prevent you from selecting Peru 
as the scene of mercantile transactions. There are many 
Englishmen who have made fortunes in the Peruvian trade. 
You may hope to follow their example. We may choose dif¬ 
ferent occupations and still be near each other. One thou¬ 
sand pounds each may give both of us a slart, — you as a 
merchant of goods, I as a digger for gold. Peru is the place 
for either business. Decide, Dick! Shall we sail for the 
Gcenes rendered celebrated by Pizarro?” 



THE BROTHERS ABROAD. 


& 


M If you will it — I’m agreed.” 

“ Thither then let us go.” 

- In a month from that time the two Trevannions might 
have been seen upon a ship, steering westward from the 
Land’s End, and six months later both disembarked upon 
the beach of Callao, — en route first for Lima, thence up the 
mountains, to the sterile snow-crested mountains, that tower 
above the treasures of Cerro Pasco, — vainly guarded withiD 
the bosom of adamantine rocks. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE BROTHERS ABROAD. 

rpHIS book is not intended as a history of the brothers 

M Ralph and Richard Trevannion. If it were so, a gap of 
some fifteen years — after the date of their arrival at Cerro 
Pasco — would have to be filled up. I decline to speak of 
this interval of their lives, simply because the details might 
not have any remarkable interest for those before whom they 
would be laid. 

Suffice it to say, that Richard, the younger, soon became 
wearied of a miner’s life; and, parting with his brother, he 
crossed the Cordilleras, and descended into the great Amazo¬ 
nian forest, — the “ montana,” as it is called by the Spanish 
inhabitants of the Andes. Thence, in company with a party 
of Portuguese traders, he kept on down the river Amazon, 
trading along its banks, and upon some of its tributary 
streams; and finally established himself as a merchant at its 
mouth, in the thriving u city ” of Gran Par4. 

Richard was not unsocial in his habits; and soon became 
the husband of a fair-haired wife, — the daughter of a coun- 



14 


AFLOAT IN THE FCLEST. 


stranger signification. Perhaps it is new to your eye, as 
your ear. You will become better acquainted with it before 
the end of our voyage; for into the “ Gapo” it is my inten 
tion to take you, where ill-luck carried the galatea and hei 
crew. 

On leaving Coary, it was not the design of her owner to 
attempt taking his craft, so indifferently manned, all the way 
to PaiA. He knew there were several civilized settlements 
between, — as Barra at the mouth of the Rio Negro, Obidos 
below it, Santarem, and others. At one or othef of these 
places he expected to obtain a supply of tapuyos , to replace 
the crew who had so provokingly forsaken him. 

The voyage to the nearest of them, however, would take 
several days, at the rate of speed the galatea was now mak¬ 
ing ; and the thought of being delayed on their route became 
each hour more irksome. The ex-rainer, who had not seen 
his beloved brother during half a score of years, was impa¬ 
tient once more to embrace him. He had been, already, sev¬ 
eral months travelling towards him by land and water; and 
just as he was beginning to believe that the most difficult 
half of the journey had been accomplished, he found himself 
delayed by an obstruction vexatious as unexpected. 

The first night after his departure from Coary, he consent¬ 
ed that the galatea should lie to, — moored to some bushes 
that grew upon the banks of the river. 

On the second night, however, he acted with less prudence. 
His impatience to make way prompted him to the resolution 
to keep on. The night was clear, — a full moon shining con¬ 
spicuously above, which is not always the case in the skies 
of the Solimoes. 

There was to be no sail s^t, no use made of the paddles. 
The crew were fatigued, and wanted rest and repose. The 
current alone was to favor their progress; and as it'appeared 
to be running nearly two miles an hour, it should advance 
them between twenty and thirty miles before the morning. 


THE GALATEA AGROUND. 


15 


The Mundurucu made an attempt to dissuade his “patron” 
from the course he designed pursuing; but his advice was 
disregarded, — perhaps because ill-understood,— and the gai- 
atea glided on. 

Whc oould mistake that broad expanse of water — upon 
which the moon shone so clearly — for aught else than the 
true channel of the Solimoes ? Not Tipperary Tom, who, in 
the second watch of the night, — the owner himself having 
kept the first, — acted as steersman of the galatea. 

The others had gone to sleep. Trevannion and the three 
young people under the toldo; Mozey and the Mundurucu 
along the staging known as the “ hold.” The birds and mon¬ 
keys were at rest on their respective perches, and in their 
respective cages, — all was silent in the galatea, and around, 

1 — all save the rippling of the water, as it parted to the cleav¬ 
ing of her keel ^ 


CHAPTER V 


THE GALATEA AGROUND. 



ITTLE experienced as he was in the art of navigation, 


1 A the steersman was not inattentive to his duty. Pre- 
riously to his taking the rudder, he had been admonished 
About the importance of keeping the craft in the channel of 
the stream, and to this had he been giving his attention. 

It so chanced, however, that he had arrived at a place 
where there were two channels, — as if an island was inter¬ 
posed in the middle of the river, causing it to branch at an 
acute angle. Which of these was the right one? Which 
should be taken ? These Vvere the questions that occurred to 
Tipperary Tom. 



16 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


At first he thought of awakening his master, and consulting 
him, but on once more glancing at the two channels, he be¬ 
came half convinced that the broader one must be the proper 
route to be followed. 

“ Bay Japers! ” muttered he to himself. “ Shure I can’t 
be mistaken. The biggest av the two ought to be the mane 
sthrame. Anyway, I won’t wake the masther. I ’ll lave it 
to the ship to choose for liersilf.” Saying this he relaxed his 
hold upon the steering oar, and permitted the galatea to drift 
with the current. 

Sure enough, the little craft inclined towards the branch 
that appeared the broader one; and in ten minutes’ time had 
made such way that the other opening was no longer visible 
from her decks. The steersman, confident of being on the 
right course, gave himself no further uneasiness ; but, once 
more renewing bis hold upon the steering oar, guided the 
galatea in the middle of the channel. 

Notwithstanding all absence of suspicion as to having gone 
astray, he could not help noticing that the banks on each side 
appeared to be singularly irregular, as if here and there in¬ 
dented by deep bays, or reaches of water. Some of these 
opened out vistas of shining surface, apparently illimitable, 
while the dark patches that separated them looked more like 
clumps of trees half submerged under water than stretches of 
solid earth. 

As the galatea continued her course, this puzzling phenom¬ 
enon ceased to be a conjecture; Tipperary Tom saw that he 
was no longer steering down a river between two boundary 
banks, but on a broad expanse of water, stretching as far as 
eye could reach, with no other boundary than that afforded by 
a flooded forest . 

There was nothing in all this to excite alarm,—at least in 
the mind of Tipperary Tom. The Mundurucu, had he been 
awake, might have shown some uneasiness at the situation. 
But the Indian was asleep, — perhaps dreaming of some 


THE GALATEA AGROUND. 


17 


Afuia enemy, — whose'head he would have been happy to 
embalm. 

Tom simply supposed himself to be in some part of the 
Solimoes flooded beyond its banks, as he had seen it in more 
places than one. With this confidence, he stuck faithfully to 
his steering oar, and allowed the galatea to glide on. It was 
only when the reach of water — upon which the craft was 
drifting — began to narrow, or rather after it had narrowed 
to a surprising degree, that the steersman began to suspect 
himself of having taken the wrong course. 

His suspicions became stronger, at length terminating in a 
conviction that such was the truth, when the galatea arrived 
at a part where less than a cable’s length lay between her 
beam-ends and the bushes that stood out of the water on both 
sides of her. Too surely had he strayed from the “ mane 
sthrame.” The craft that carried him could no longer be in 
the channel of the mighty Solimoes ! 

The steersman was alarmed, and this very alarm hindered 
him from following the only prudent course he could have 
taken under the circumstances. He should have aroused his 
fellow-voyagers, and proclaimed the error into which he had 
fallen. He did not do so. A sense of shame at having neg¬ 
lected his duty, or rather at having performed it in an indif¬ 
ferent manner, — a species of regret not uncommon among 
his countrymen, — hindered him from disclosing the truth, 
and taking steps to avert any evil consequences that might 
spring from it. 

He knew nothing of the great river on which they were 
voyaging. There might be such a strait as that through 
which the galatea was gliding. The channel might widen 
below; and, after all, lie might have steered in the proper 
direction. With such conjectures, strengthened by such hopes, 
he permitted the vessel to float on. 

The channel did widen again ; and the galatea once more 
rod** upon open water. The steersman was restored to confi 

B 


18 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


dence and contentment. Only for a short while did this state 
of mind continue. Again the clear water became contracted, 
this time to a very strip, while on either side extended reach¬ 
es and estuaries, bordered by half-submerged bushes, — some 
of them opening apparently to the sky horizon, wider and 
freer from obstruction than that upon which the galatea was 
holding her course. 

The steersman no longer thought of continuing his course, 
which he was now convinced must be the wrong one. Bear¬ 
ing with all his strength upon the steering oar, he endeavored 
to direct the galatea back into the channel through which he 
had come; but partly from the drifting of the current, and 
partly owing to the deceptive light of the moon, he could no 
longer recognize the latter, and, dropping the rudder in de¬ 
spair, he permitted the vessel to drift whichever way the 
current might carry her! 

Before Tipperary Tom could summon courage to make 
known to his companions the dilemma into which he had con¬ 
ducted them, the galatea had drifted among the tree-tops of 
the flooded forest, where she was instantly “brought to an¬ 
chor.” 

The crashing of broken boughs roused her crew from their 
slumbers. The ex-miner, followed by his children, rushed 
forth from the toldo. He was not only alarmed, but per¬ 
plexed, by the unaccountable occurrence. Mozey was equally 
in a muddle. The only one who appeared to comprehend the 
situation was the old Indian, who showed sufficient uneasiness 
as to its consequences by the terrified manner in which be 
called out: “ The Gapo ! The Gapo! ” 


THE MONKEY-I’OTS. 


19 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE MONKEY-POTS. 

14 rpiIE Gapo?” exclaimed the master of the ciaft. 

“ What is it, Munday ? ” 

“The Gapo?” repeated Tipperary Tom, fancying by the 
troubled expression on the face of the Indian that he had 
conducted his companions toward some terrible disaster. 
“ Phwat is it, Manday ? ” 

“ Da Gapoo ? ” simultaneously interrogated the negro, the 
whites of his eyeballs shining in the moonlight. “ What be 
dat ? ” 

The Mundurucu made reply only by a wave of his hand, 
and a glance around him, as if to say, “ Yes, the Gapo; you 
see we ’re in it.” 

The three interrogators were as much in the dark as ever. 
Whether the Gapo was fish, flesh, or fowl, air, fire, or water, 
they could not even guess. There was but one upon the 
galatea besides the Indian himself who knew the signification 
of the word which had created such a sensation among the 
crew, and this was young Richard Trevannion. 

“ It’s nothing, uncle,” said he, hastening to allay the alarm 
around him; “ old Munday means that we’ve strayed from 
the true channel of the Solimoes, and got into the flooded 
forest, — that’s all.” 

u The flooded forest ? ” 

“ Yes. What you see around us, looking like low bushes, 
are the tops of tall trees. We ’re now aground on the 
branches of a ' sapucaya ,— a species of the Brazil-nut, and 
among the tallest of Amazonian trees. I’m right, — see! 
there are the nuts themselves!” As the young Paraense 
spoke, he pointed to some pericarps, large as cocoa-nuts, that 
were seen depending from the branches among which the 


20 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


galatea had caught. Grasping one of them in his hand, he 
wrenched it from the branch; but as he did so, the husk 
dropped off, and the prism-shaped nuts fell like a shower of 
huge hailstones on the roof of the toldo. “ Monkey-pots they 
*re called,” continued he, referring to the empty pericarp 
still in his hand. “ That’s the name by which the Indians 
know them; because the monkeys are very fond of these 
nuts.” 

“ But the Gapo ? ” interrupted the ex-miner, observing that 
the expressive look of uneasiness still clouded the brow of 
the Mundurucu. 

“ It’s the Indian name for the great inundation,” replied 
Richard, in the same tranquil tone. “ Or rather I should 
say, the name for it in the lingoa-geral.” 

“And what is there to fear? Munday has frightened us 
all, and seems frightened himself. What is the cause ? ” 

“ That I can’t tell you, uncle. I know there are queer 
stories about the Gapo, — tales of strange monsters that in¬ 
habit it, — huge serpents, enormous apes, and all that sort of 
thing. I never believed them, though the tapuyos do; and 
from old Munday’s actions I suppose he puts full faith in 
them.” 

“The young patron is mistaken,” interposed the Indian, 
speaking a patois of the lingoa-geral. “The Mundurucu 
does not believe in monsters. He believes in big serpents 
and monkeys, — he has seen them.” 

“ But shure yez are not afeerd o’ them, Manday ? ” asked 
the Irishman. 

The Indian only replied by turning on Tipperary Tom a 
most scornful look. 

“ What is the use of this alarm ? ” inquired Trevannion 
“ The galatea does not appear to have sustained any injury. 
We can easily get her out of her present predicament, bj 
opping off the branches that are holding her.” 

“ Patron,” said the Indian, still speaking in a serious tone, 


THE MONKKY-HCTS. 


21 

“ it may not be so easy as you think. We may get clear of 
the tree-top in ten minutes. In as many hours — perhaps 
days — we may not get clear of the Gapo. That is why 
the Mundurucu shows signs of apprehension.” 

“ Ho. You think we may have a difficulty in finding our 
<vay back to the channel of the river ? ” 
u Think it, patron ! I am too sure of it. If not, we shall 
*»e in the best of good luck.” 

“ It’s of no use trying to-night, at all events,” pursued 
Trevannion, as he glanced uncertainly around him. “The 
moon is sinking over the tree-tops. Before we could well 
get adrift, she ’ll be gone out of sight. We might only drift 
deeper into the maze. Is that your opinion, Munday? ” 

“ It is, patron. We can do no good by leaving the place 
to-night. Wiser for us to wait for the light of the sun.” 

“ Let all go to rest, then,” commanded the patron, “ and 
be ready for work in the morning. We need keep no look¬ 
out, I should think. The galatea is as safe here as if 
moored in a dry dock. She is aground , I take it, upon th* 
limb of a tree! Ha! ha! ha! ” 

The thought of such a situation for a sailing craft — 
moored amid the tops of a tail tree — was of so ludicrous a 
nature as to elicit a peal of laughter from the patron, which 
was echoed by the rest of the crew, the Mundurucu alone 
excepted. His countenance still preserved its expression 
of uneasiness; and long after the others had sunk into un¬ 
conscious sleep, he sat upon the stem of the galatea, gazing 
out into the gloom, with glances that betokened serious ap¬ 
prehension. 


22 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST, 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE GAPO. 


^HE young Paraense had given a correct, although nc< 



I sufficiently explicit, account of the sort of place in which 
the galatea had gone “ aground.” 

That singular phenomenon known as the Gapo (or Tgapo ), 
and which is one of the most remarkable characteristics of 
the great Amazonian region, demands a more detailed de¬ 
scription. It is worthy of this, as a mere study of physical 
geography, — perhaps as pleasant a science as any; and 
furthermore, it is here absolutely necessary to th.e under¬ 
standing of our tale. Without some comprehension of 
the circumstances that surrounded them, the hardships and 
sufferings endured, the adventures accomplished, and the 
perils passed by the crew of the strayed galatea, would ap¬ 
pear as so many fabulous inventions, set forth to stimulate 
and gratify a taste for the merely marvellous. Young read¬ 
er, this is not the aim of your author, nor does he desire it 
to be the end. On the contrary, he claims to draw Nature 
with a verisimilitude that will challenge the criticism of the 
naturalist; though he acknowledges a predilection for Nature 
in her wildest aspects, — for scenes least exposed to the eye 
of civilization, and yet most exposed to its doubting incredulity. 

There are few country people who have not witnessed the 
spectacle of a piece of woodland inundated by the overflow 
of a neighboring stream. This flood is temporary ; the waters 
soon subside into their ordinary channel, and the trees once 
more appear growing out of terra Jirma, with the green mead 
spreading on all sides around them. But a flooded forest is 
a very different affair; somewhat similar in character indeed, 
but far grander. Not a mere spinney of trees alon" the 
bank of a small stream; but a region extending beyond the 


THE GAI’O. 


23 


teach of vision,— a vast tract of primeval woods, — the. 
tall trees submerged to their very tops, not for days, nor 
weeks, but for months, — ay, some of them forever! Pic¬ 
ture to your mind an inundation of this kind, and you will 
have some idea of the Gapo. 

Extending for seventeen hundred miles along the banks 
of the Solimoes, now wider on the northern, now stretching 
farther back from the southern side, this semi-submerged 
forest is found, its interior almost as unknown as the crater¬ 
like caverns of the moon, or the icy oceans that storm or 
slumber round the Poles, — unknown to civilized man, but 
not altogether to the savage. The aboriginal of Amazonia, 
crouching in his canoe, has pierced this water-land of won¬ 
ders. He could tell you much about it that is real, and 
much that is marvellous, — the latter too often pronounced 
fanciful by lettered savans. He could tell you of strange 
trees that grow there, bearing strange fruits, not to be found 
elsewhere, — of wonderful quadrupeds, and yxiadrumana , that 
exist only in the Gapo, — of birds brilliantly beautiful, and 
reptiles hideously ugly; among the last the dreaded dragon 
serpent, “ Sucuriyu.” He could tell you, moreover, of crea¬ 
tures of his own kind, — if they deserve the name of man, — 
who dwell continuously in the flooded forest, making their 
home on scaffolds among the tree-tops, passing from place 
to place in floating rafts or canoes, finding their subsistence 
on fish, on the flesh of the manatee , on birds, beasts, reptiles, 
and insects, on the stalks of huge water-plants and the fruits 
of undescribed trees, on monkeys, and sometimes upon man! 
Such Indians as have penetrated the vast water-land have 
brought strange tales out of it. We may give credence to 
them oi refuse it; but they, at least, are firm believers in 
most of the accounts which they have collected. 

It is not to be supposed that the Gapo is impenetrable. 
On the contrary, there are several well-known water-ways 
leading through it, — well-known, I mean, to the Indians 


24 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


dwelling upon its borders, to the tapuyos , whose business it 
is to supply crews for the galateas of the Portuguese traders, 
and to many of these traders themselves. These water¬ 
ways are often indicated by “ blazings ” on the trees, or bro¬ 
ken branches, just as the roads are laid out by pioneer set¬ 
tlers in a North American forest; and but for these marks, 
they could not be followed. Sometimes, however, large 
spaces occur in which no trees are to be seen, where, in* 
deed, none grow. There are extensive lakes, always under 
water, even at the lowest ebb of the inundation. They are 
of all sizes and every possible configuration, from the com¬ 
plete circle through all the degrees of the ellipse, and not un 
frequently in the form of a belt, like the channel of a rivei 
running for scores of miles between what might readily be 
mistaken for banks covered with a continuous thicket of 
low bushes, which are nothing more than the “spray” of 
evergreen trees, whose roots lie forty feet under water! 

More frequently these openings are of irregular shape, and 
of such extent as to merit the title of “ inland seas.” When 
such are to be crossed, the sun has to be consulted by tho 
canoe or gala tea gliding near their centre ; and when he is noi 
visible, — by no means a rare phenomenon in the Gapo,—then 
is there great danger of the craft straying from her course. 

When within sight of the so-called “ shore,” a clump of 
peculiar form, or a tree topping over its fellows, is used as a 
landmark, and often guides the navigator of the Gapo to the 
igarita of which he is in search. 

It is not all tranquillity on this tree-studded ocean. It 
has its fogs, its gales, and its storms, — of frequent occur¬ 
rence. The canoe is oft shattered against the stems of gi¬ 
gantic trees; and the galatea goes down, leaving her crew 
to perish miserably in the midst of a gloomy wilderness of 
wood and water. Many strange tales are told of such mis¬ 
haps; but up to the present hour none have received th< 
permanent record of print and paper. 

Be it our task to supply this deficiency. 


THE ECHENTE. 


25 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE ECHENTE. 

I T would not be true to say that the crew of the galatea 
were up with the sun. There was no sun to shine upon 
the gloomy scene that revealed itself next morning. In¬ 
stead, there was a fog almost thick enough to be grasped 
with the hand. They were astir, however, by the earliest 
appearance of day; for the captain of the galatea was too 
anxious about his “ stranded ” craft to lie late abed. 

They had no difficulty in getting the vessel afloat. A 
strong pull at the branches of the sapucaya, and then an 
adroit use of the paddles, carried the craft clear. 

But what was the profit of this ? Once out in the open 
water, they were as badly off as ever. Not one of them had 
the slightest idea of the direction they would take, even 
supposing they could find a clear course in any direction! 
A consultation was the result, in which all hands took part, 
though it was evident that, after the patron, most deference 
was paid to the Mundurucii. The young Paraense stood 
next in the scale of respect; while Tipperary Tom, beyond 
the account which he was called upon to give of his steers- 
manship, was not permitted to mingle his Hibernian brogue 
in the discussion. ^ 

Where was the river? That was the first problem to be 
solved, and of this there appeared to be no possible solution. 
There was no sun to guide them, no visible sky. Even 
had there been both, it would scarce have mended the mat¬ 
ter. The steersman could not tell whether, on straying 
from the channel, he had drifted to the south or the norths 
the east or the west; and, indeed, an intellect less obtuse than 
that of Tipperary Tom might have been puzzled upon the 
point. It has been already mentioned, that the Sollmoes is 
2 


26 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


so tortuous as to turn to every point of the compass in its 
slow course. The mere fact that the moon was shining at 
tHe time could be of little use to Tipperary Tom, whose as¬ 
tronomy had never extended beyond the knowledge that 
there was a moon. 

Where lay the river ? The interrogatory was repeated a 
score of times, without receiving a satisfactory answer; 
though every one on board — the little Rosita excepted —• 
ventured some sort of reply, most, however, offering their 
opinion with a doubting diffidence. The Mundurucii, al¬ 
though repeatedly appealed to, had taken small part in the 
discussion, remaining silent, his eyes moodily wandering over 
the water, seeking through the fog for some clew to their es¬ 
cape from the spot. 

No one plied the paddles ; they had impelled her out of 
sight of the sapucaya, now shrouded in the thick fog; but, 
as it was useless paddling any farther, all hands had desisted, 
and were now resting upon their oars. At this moment it 
was perceived that the galatea was in motion. The Mun¬ 
durucii was the first to notice it; for his attention had for 
some time been directed to such discovery. For this reason 
had he cast his searching glances, now down into the turbid 
waters, and now out through the murky atmosphere. A 
' thicket was discernible through the fog, but every moment 
^"becoming less distinct. Of course it was only a collection 
of tree-tops; but whatever it was, it soon became evident that 
the galatea was very slowly receding from it. On discov¬ 
ering this, the Mundurucii displayed signs of fresh animation. 
He had been for some minutes lying upon his face, craning 
out over the gangway, and his long withered arms submerged 
in the water. The others occupied themselves in guessing 
what he was about; but their guesses had been to no pur¬ 
pose. Equally purposeless had appeared the actions of the 
Indian; for, after keeping his arm under water for s perbd 
of several minutes, he drew it in with a dissatisfied air, and 


1HL ECHFNTE. 


27 


once more arose to his feet. It was just then that lie per¬ 
ceived the tree-tops, upon which he kept his eyes sharply 
fixed, until assured that the galatea was going away from 
them. 

“ Hoola ! ” he exclaimed, attempting to imitate the cry he 
had more than once heard issuing from the lips of Tipperary 
Tom. “ Hoola ! the river is out there! ” As he spoke, he 
pointed towards the tree-tops. 

It was the first confident answer to the all-important 
question. 

“ How can you tell that, Munday ? ” inquired the captain 
of the craft. 

“ How tell, patron ? How tell day from night, the moon 
from the sun, fire from water? The Solimoes is therei” 
The Indian spoke with his arm still extended in the direction 
of the trees. 

“ We are willing to believe you,” rejoined Trevannion, 
“and will trust to your guidance; but pray explain your¬ 
self.” 

“ It ’s all guess-work,” interpolated Tipperary Tom. 
“Ould Munday knows no more av fwat he’s talkin’ about 
than Judy Fitzcummons’s mother. I ’ll warrant ye we 
come in from the t’other side.” 

“ Silence, Tom ! ” commanded his master. “ Let us hear 
what Munday has to say. You have no right to contradict 
him.” 

“Och, awance! An Indyen’s opinion prefarred before 
that ov a freeborn Oirishman! I wondher what nixt.” 
And as Tipperary completed his chapter of reproaches, he 
slank crouchingly under the shadow of the toldo. 

“ So you think the river is there ? ” said Trevannion, once 
more addressing himself to the Mundurucd. 

“ The Mundurucu is sure of it, patron. Sure as that the 
sky is above us.” 

“ Remember, old man ! It won’t do for us to make 'any mia> 


28 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


take. No doubt we’ve already strayed a considerable dia 
tance from the channel of the Solimoes. To go again from 
it will be to endanger our lives.” 

“ The Mundurucu knows that ,” was the laconic reply. 

“Well, then, we must be satisfied of the fact, before we 
can venture to make a move. What proof can you give us 
that the river lies in that direction ? ” 

“ Patron! You know the month ? It is the month of 
March.” 

“ Certainly it is. What of that ? ” 

“ The echente.” 

“ The echente ? What is that? ” 

“The flood getting bigger. The water on the rise,— ihe 
Gapo still growing, — that is the echente .” 

“ But how should that enable you to determine the di¬ 
rection of the river ? ” 

“ It has done so,” replied the Indian. “ Not before three 
months — in June — will come the vasante .” 

“The vasante ?” 

“ The vasante , patron : the fall. Then the Gapo will be¬ 
gin to grow less; and the current will be towards the river, 
as now it is from it.” 

“Your story appears reasonable enough. I suppose we 
may trust to it. If so,” added Trevannion, “ we had better 
direct our course towards yonder tree-tops, and lose no time 
in getting beyond them. All of you to your paddles, and 
pull cheerily. Let us make up for the time we have lost 
through the negligence of Tipperary Tom. Pull, my lads, 
pull! ” 

At this cheering command the four paddlers rushed to 
their places; and the galatea, impelled by their vigorous 
strokes, once more glided gayly over the bosom of th« 
waters. 


AN IMPASSABLE BARRIER. 


29 


CHAPTER IX. 

AN IMPASSABLE BARRIER. 

I N a few moments the boat’s bow was brought within half 
a cable’s length of the boughs of the submerged treea 
Her crew could see that to proceed farther, on a direct course, 
was simply impossible. With equal reason might they have 
attempted to hoist her into the air, and leap over the ob¬ 
struction that had presented itself before them. 

Not only were the branches of the adjoining trees inter¬ 
locked, but from one to the other straggled a luxurious 
growth of creepers, forming a network so strong and com¬ 
pact that a steamer of a hundred horse-power would have 
been safely brought to a stand among its meshes. Of course 
no attempt was made to penetrate this impenetrable chevaux 
de frise; and after a while had been spent in reconnoitring 
it, Trevannion, guided by the counsel of the Mundurucu, or¬ 
dered the galatea to go about, and proceed along the selvage 
of the submerged forest. An hour was spent in paddling. 
No opening. Another hour similarly employed, and with 
similar results! 

The river might be in the direction pointed out by the 
Indian. No doubt it was; but how were they to reach it? 
Not a break appeared in all that long traverse wide enough 
to admit the passage of a canoe. Even an arrow could scarce 
have penetrated among the trees, that extended their parasite¬ 
laden branches beyond the border of the forest! By tacit 
consent of the patron, the paddlers rested upon their oars; 
then plied them once more; and once more came to a pause. 

No opening among the tree-tops; no chance to reach the 
channel of the Solimoes. The gloomy day became gloomier, 
for night was descending over the Gapo. The crew of the 
galatea, wearied with many hours of exertion, ceased pad¬ 
dling. The patron did not oppose them; for his spirit, as 


so 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 

V 


well as theirs, had become subdued by hope long deferred 
As upon the previous night, the craft was moored among 
the tree-tops, where her rigging, caught among the creepers, 
seemed enough to keep her from drifting away. But very 
different from that of the preceding night was the slumber 
enjoyed by her crew. Amidst the boughs of the sapucaya, 
there had been nothing to disturb their tranquillity, save the 
occasional shower of nuts, caused by the cracking of the dry 
shells, and the monkey-pots discharging their contents. Then 
was the galatea “grounded” upon a solitary tree, which car¬ 
ried only its own fruit. To-night she was moored in the 
middle of a forest, — at all events upon its edge, — a forest, 
not of the earth, nor the air, nor the water, but of all three,— 
a forest whose inhabitants might be expected to partake of a 
character altogether strange and abnormal. And of such 
character were they; for scarce had the galatea become set¬ 
tled among the tree-tops, when the ears of her crew were 
assailed by a chorus of sounds, that with safety might have 
challenged the choir of Pandemonium. Two alone remained 
undismayed, — Richard Trevannion and the Munduructf. 

“Bah!” exclaimed the Paraense, “what -are you all 
frightened at? Don’t you know what it is, uncle?” 

“ I know what it resembles, boy, — the Devil and his le¬ 
gions let loose from below. What is it, Dick?f 

“ Only the howlers. Don’t be alarmed, little Rosita! ” 

The little Peruvian, gaining courage from his words, looked 
admiringly on the youth who had called her “ little Rosita.” 
Any one could have told that, from that time forward, Rich¬ 
ard Trevannion might have the power to control the desti¬ 
nies of his cousin. 

“ The howlers! What are they ? ” inquired the old miner. 
“Monkeys, uncle; nothing more. From the noise they 
make, ore might suppose they were as big as buffaloes. 
Nothing or the kind. Fhe largest I ever saw was hardly as 
stout as a deerhound, though he could make as much noise as 
a whole kennel. They have » °ert «‘dnim in the throat 


AN IMPASSABLE BARRIER. 


31 


that acts as a sound-board. That’s what enables them to 
get up such a row. I ’ve often heard their concert more 
than two miles across country, especially in prospect of an 
approaching storm. I don’t know if they follow this fashion 
in the Gapo; but if they do, from the way they ’re going it 
now, we may look out for a trifling tornado.” 

Notwithstanding the apparent unconcern with which young 
Trevannion declared himself, there was something in his 
manner that arrested the attention of his uncle. While pro¬ 
nouncing his hypothetical forecast of a storm, he had turned 
his glance towards the sky, and kept it fixed there, as if 
making something more than a transient observation. The 
fog had evaporated, and the moon was now coursing across 
the heavens, not against a field of cloudy blue, but in the 
midst of black, cumulous clouds, that every now and then 
shrouded her effulgence. A dweller in the tropics of the 
Western hemisphere would have pronounced this sign the 
certain forerunner of a storm; and so predicted the young 
Paraense. “ We ’ll have the sky upon us within an hour,” 
said he, addressing himself more especially to his uncle. 
“We’d better tie the galatea to the trees. If this be a hur¬ 
ricane , and she goes adrift, there’s no knowing where we 
may bring up. The likeliest place will be in the bottom of 
the Gapo.” 

“ The young patron speaks truth,” interposed Munday, his 
eyes all the while reading the signs of the heavens. “ The 
Mundurucu knows by yonder yellow sky.” 

As he spoke, the Indian pointed to a patch of brimstone- 
colored clouds, conspicuous over the tops of the trees. 
There was no reason why Ralph Trevannion should not 
give credit to the two weather-prophets, who could have 
no personal motive in thus warning him. He yielded, there¬ 
fore, to their solicitation; and in ten minutes more the gala- 
tea was secured among the tree-tops, as fast as cords could 
make her 


32 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER X. 

1 TROPICAL TORNADO. 

N OTWITHSTANDING the apparently complete se* 
curity thus obtained for the craft, the Mundurucri did 
not seem to be easy in his mind. He had climbed up the 
mast to the yard, and, having there poised himself, sat gazing 
over the tops of the trees upon the patch of brimstone sky 
which was visible in that direction. The others all talked 
of going to sleep, except the young Paraense, who coun¬ 
selled them to keep awake. He, too, like the Mundurucu, 
was troubled with forebodings. He understood the weather- 
signs of the Solimoes, and saw that a storm was portending. 
Though the sun had not been visible during the whole day, 
it was now about the hour of his setting; and as if the storm 
had been waiting for this as a signal, it now boldly broke 
forth. A few quick puffs, with short intervals between them, 
were its precursors. These were soon followed by gusts, 
stronger, as well as noisier, in their advent; and then the 
wind kept up a continuous roaring among the tops of the 
trees ; while above the thunder rolled incessantly, filling the 
firmament with its terrible voice. Deep darkness and the 
vivid glare of the lightning-flashes followed each other in 
quick succession. At one moment all was obscure around 
the crew of the grnatea, — the sky, the trees, the water, even 
the vessel herself; in the next, everything was made mani¬ 
fest, to the distance of miles, under a brilliance garish and 
unearthly. To add to the unnatural appearance of things, 
there were other sounds than those of the thunder or the 
Btorm, — the cries of living creatures, strange and unknown. 
Birds they might be, or beasts, or reptiles, or all these, com¬ 
mingling their screams, and other accents of affright, with 
the sharp whistling of the wind, the hoarse rumbling of the 
tiivnder, and the continuous crashing of the branches. 


A TROPICAL TORNADO. 


83 


The crew of the galatea were on the alert, with awe de* 
picted on every face. Their fear was lest the craft should 
be blown away from her moorings, and carried out into the 
open water, which was now agitated by the fury of the storm. 
Almost under the first lashing of the wind, huge waves had 
8prung up, with white crests, that under the electric light 
gleamed fiercely along the yellow swell of the turbid water. 
Their anxiety was of short continuance; for almost on the 
instant of its rising, it became reality. Unfortunately, the 
tree to which the craft had been tied was one whose wood 
was of a soft and succulent nature, — a species of melastoma. 
Its branches were too brittle to bear the strain thus unex¬ 
pectedly put upon them ; and almost at the first onset of the 
tornado' they began to give way, snapping off one after the 
other in quick succession. So rapid was the process of de¬ 
tachment, that, before fresh moorings could be made, the 
last cord had come away; and the galatea, like a greyhound 
loosed from the leash, shot out from among the tree-tops, and 
went off in wild career over the waves of the Gapo. Before 
any control could be gained over her by her terrified crew, 
she had made several cables* length into the open water, and 
was still sweeping onward over its seething surface. To 
turn her head towards the trees was clearly out of the ques¬ 
tion. The attempt would have been idle. Both wind and 
waves carried her in the opposite direction, to say nothing of 
the current, against which she had been already contending. 
The crew no longer thought of returning to the tree-tops, 
out of which they had been so unceremoniously swept. 
Their only chance of safety appeared to be to keep the 
craft as well balanced as circumstances would permit, and 
run before the wind. Even this for a time seemed but a 
doubtful chance. The wind blew not in regular, uniform 
direction, but in short, fitful gusts, as if coming from every 
ooint of the compass; and the waves rolled around them as 
high as houses. In the midst of a c v opping, surging 6ea. the 

2* V 


34 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


galatea tumbled and pitched, now head, now stern foremost 
at times going onward in mad career, and with headlong 
speed. The parrots and macaws upon the yard had as much 
as their strong claws could do to keep their perch; and the 
monkeys, cowering under the shelter of the toldo, clung close 
to its timbers. Both birds and beasts mingled their terrified 
cries with the creaking of the galatea’s timbers and the 
shouts of her crew. The Gapo threatened to ingulf them. 
Every moment might be their last! And with this dread 
belief, scarce for a moment out of their minds, did our adven • 
turers pass the remainder of that remarkable night, the gala- 
tea galloping onward, they could not tell whither. All they 
knew or could remember of that nocturnal voyage was, that 
the vessel kept upon her course, piloted only by the winds 
and waves, — at times tossing within deep troughs of turbu¬ 
lent water, at times poised upon the summits of ridge-liko 
swells, but ever going onward at high speed, seemingly ten 
knots an hour! 

For a long while they saw around them only open w r ater, 
as of some great lake or inland sea. At a later hour, the 
lightning revealed the tops of submerged trees, such as those 
they had left behind ; but standing out of the water in clumps 
or coppices, that appeared like so many islands. Amidst 
these they were carried, sometimes so close to the trees as 
to give them hopes of being able to grasp their boughs. 
Once or twice the rigging of the galatea brushed among the 
branches; and they used every effort to stay their runaway 
craft, and bring her to an anchorage. But in vain. The 
storm was stronger than the united strength of the crew. 
The twigs clutched with eager hands parted in twain, and 
the storm-driven vessel swept on amid the surging waters. 

Daylight arrived at length, breaking through a red aurora, 
toon followed by a brilliant sunrise. This somewhat cheered 
our despairing adventurers. But the tempest was still rag¬ 
ing with nndiminished fury, the wind as loud and the waves 


A TROPICAL TORNADO. 


3.5 


as high as at any period throughout the night. Once more 
they were in the middle of a waste of waters, neither trees 
nor land in sight. Another great lake or inland sea ? It 
could not be that over which they had been already carried ? 
No. The wind was now blowing more steadily ; and could 
it not have shifted ? Even if it had, they had not returned 
through the archipelago of tree-top islands. They were in 
another opening of the Gapo. Munday was of this opinion, 
and that was proof sufficient to satisfy his companions. As 
we have said, the returning day did little to restore the con¬ 
fidence of the galatea’s crew. The tornado still continued. 
Despite the sunlit sky, the storm showed no signs of abating; 
and the crazy craft gave tongue in every timber of her frail 
frame. The sounds were ominous to the ears of those who 
listened to them. It was too evident, that, unless there 
should soon come a lull, the galatea would go to the bot¬ 
tom. She had not been constructed to stand a strain like 
that to which she had been thus unexpectedly exposed, and 
an anchorage either to terra jirma or the tree-tops would 
soon become necessary to her salvation. Her crew, con¬ 
vinced of this, were one and all upon the lookout, scanning 
the horizon as closely as the crested billows would admit. 
The Mundurucu had mounted to the top of the mast, where, 
with one of the monkeys that had perched itself on his 
shoulders, he clung with the tenacity of despair. All at 
once he was heard to cry out, the monkey mocking him iu 
mimic tone. 

“ What is it, Munday ? What do you see: ” were the in¬ 
quiries that reached him from below. 

“ Land,” was the laconic reply. 

“ Land! ” went up the echo from half a score of joyous 
voices. 

“Maybe not land — I mean the terra Jirma” pursued the 
observer, in a less confident tone. “ It may be only the 
top of a thick forest like what we tried to penetrate yes* 


86 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 








terday. Whatever it is, patron, it seems along the w hoi* 
edge o f the sky. We are drifting towards it, straight as the 
wind can carry us.” 



“ Thank God! ” exclaimed Trevannion, “ anything is Det- 
ter than this. If we can get once more among the tree-tops, 
we shall at least be saved from drowning. Thank God 
children. We shall be preserved! ” 

The Indian descended from the mast, close followed by 
the monkey, whose serio-comic countenance seemed to say 
tha* he too was satisfied by the observation just made StiV 








THE GALATEA TREED. 


37 


careering madly onward before the tempest, the boat soon 
brought the tree-tops within view, and, after a brief debate, 
the conclusion was reached that it was only a submerged 
forest. But even this was better than buffeting about on 
the open billows, — every moment in danger of being 
swamped; and with a universal feeling of joy our adven¬ 
turers perceived that their craft was drifting toward that 
dark line. They were powerless to control her course. 
Her rudder had been unshipped during the night, and they 
could trust only to the tempest still raging to carry them to 
the confines of the forest. In full hope that this would be 
the result, they took no measures either to promote or frus* 
trate the steering of the storm. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE GALATEA TREED. 



IOooED by the tempest, the galatea preserved her 


1 course towards the tree-tops, thus keeping up the 
spirits and confidence of her crew. Despite some divergen¬ 
ces caused by an occasional contrary gust of wind, she kept 
an onward course, in due time arriving within such distance 
of the forest, that it was no longer doubtful about her drift¬ 
ing among the trees. In this there was a prospect of tempo¬ 
rary safety at the least, and our adventurers had begun 
to congratulate themselves on the proximity of the event. 
Just then, a gigantic tree — it must have been gigantic to 
stand so high over its fellows, though it could scarce be fifty 
feet above the surface of the water — presented itself to their 
eyes. It stood solitary and alone, about a quarter of a mile 
from the edge of the forest, and as much nearer to the 



AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


38 

craft, still struggling through the wind-lashed water. Like 
that in the top of which they had first gone aground, it wa? 
a sapucaya, — as testified by the huge pericarps conspicuously 
suspended from its branches. High as may have been the 
inundation, its stem rose still higher, by at least ten feet; but 
half-way between the water’s surface and the branches, the 
colossal trunk forked in twain, — each of tne twin scions 
appearing a trunk of itself. Through the fork was the wa¬ 
ter washing at each heave of the agitated Gapo, — the 
waves with foaming crests mounting far up towards the top 
of the tree, as if aspiring to pluck the ripe fruit depending 
from its branches. 

Towards this tree the galatea was now going as straight 
as if she had been steered by the finger of Destiny itself. 
There was no other power to control her, — at least none 
that was human. The wind, or destiny, — one of the two, — 
must determine her fate. The waves perhaps had some¬ 
thing to do with it; since the next that followed lifted the 
galatea upon its curling crest, and lodged her in the sapu¬ 
caya in such a fashion that her keel, just amidships, rested 
within the forking of the twin stems. 

“ Thank God ! ” exclaimed her owner, “ we are safe now. 
Moored between two stanchions like these, neither the winds 
of heaven nor the waves of the great ocean itself could pre¬ 
vail against us. Make fast there ! Make fast to the limbs 
of the tree! Tie her on both sides. These are no twigs to 
be snapped asunder. Hurrah! we are anchored at last!” 

The gigantic stems of the sapucaya, rising on both sides 
above the beam ends of the galatea, looked like the sup- 
porters of a graving-dock. It is true the craft still floated 
upon the bosom of a troubled water; but what of that? 
Once made fast to the tree, she could not be carried farther; 
therefore was she secure against wind and wave. The tor¬ 
nado might continue, but no longer to be a terror to the 
crew. These, partly relieved from their fears, hastened to 


A DANGEROUS DUCKING. 


39 


obey l he master’s commands. Ropes were grasped, and, 
with hands still trembling, were looped around the stems of 
the sapucaya. All at once action was suspended by a loud 
crash, which was followed by a cry that issued simultane 
ously from the lips of all the crew; who, before its echoeft 
could die away among the branches of the sapucaya, had 
become separated into two distinct groups! 

The crash had been caused by the parting of the galatea’s 
keel, which, resting in the fork of the tree, had broken 
amidships, on the subsidence of the wave that had heaved 
her into this peculiar position. For a few seconds the two 
sections of the partly dissevered craft hung balanced between 
the air and the water, the fore-deck with its stores balancing 
the quarter with its toldo. But long before the beam was 
kicked, the occupants of both had forsaken them, and were 
to be seen, some Of them clinging to the branches of the 
sapucaya, some struggling beneath against the 6torm and the 
current of the Gapo. By noble devotion on the part of 
those who could swim, the whole crew were placed beyond 
the reach of the waves upon the branches of the sapucaya, 
where, from their elevated position, they beheld the craft that 
had so long safely carried them parting in two and sinking 
out of sight. 


CHAPTER XII. 

A DANGEROUS DUCKING. 

B EFORE the dismembered vessel quite disappeared 
under the storm-lashed waves, every individual of her 
crew had found a foothold Upon the branches of the sapu¬ 
caya. The tree, while causing the wreck of their vessel, had 
saved them from going with her to the bottom of the Gapo 



40 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


For some time, however, they were far from feeling secure. 
They were in different parts of the tree, scattered all over it, 
just as they had been able to lay hold of the limbs and lift 
themselves above the reach of the swelling waves. Scarce 
two of them were in the same attitude. One stood erect 
upon a branch with arms around an upright stem ; another 
sat astride; a third lay along a limb, with one leg dangling 
downwards. The young Paraense had taken post upon a 
stout lliana , that threaded through the branches of the trees, 
and, with one arm around this and the other encircling the 
waist of his cousin, Rosita, he kept both the girl and himself 
in a position of perfect security. Young Ralph found footing 
on a large limb, while his father stood upon a still larger one 
immediately below. The pets, both birds and beasts, had 
distributed themselves in their affright, and were seen 
perched on all parts of the tree. 

For a time there was no attempt made by any one to 
change his position. The tornado still continued, and it was 
just as much as any of them could do to keep the place al¬ 
ready gained. There was one who did not even succeed in 
keeping his place, and this was Tipperary Tom. The Irish¬ 
man had selected one of the lowest limbs, that stretched 
horizontally outward, only a few feet above the surface of 
the water. He had not exactly made choice of his perch, 
but had been flung upon it by the swelling wave, and, clutch¬ 
ing instinctively, had held fast. The weight of his body, 
however, had bent the branch downward, and, after making 
several fruitless efforts to ascend to the stem, he had dis¬ 
covered that the feat was too much for him. There was no 
choice but to hold on to the bent branch or drop back into 
the boiling Gapo, that threatened from below to ingulf him ; 
terrified by the latter alternative, Tom exerted all his 
strength, ard held on with mouth agape and eyes astare. 
Soon the tension would have proved too much for him, and 
he must have dropped down into the water. But he was 


A DANGEROUS DUCKING. 


41 


not permittee! to reach this point of exhaustion. A wave 
similar to that which had landed him on the limb lifted him 
off again, launching him out into the open water. 

A cry of consternation came from the tree. All knew that 
Tipperary Tom was no swimmer; and with this knowledge 
they expected to see him sink like a stone. He did go 
down, and was for some moments lost to view; but his carrot- 
colored head once more made its appearance above the 
surface, and, guided by his loud cries, his situation was 
easily discovered. He could only sink a second time to rise 
no more. Sad were the anticipations of his companions, — 
all except one, who had made up his mind that Tipperary 
Tom was not yet to die. This was the Mundurucu, who 
at. the moment was seen precipitating himself from the tree, 
and then swimming out in the direction of the drowning 
man. In less than a score of seconds he was in the clutch 
of the Indian, who grasping him with one hand, with the 
other struck out for the tree. 

By good fortune the swell that had swept Tipperary from 
his perch, or one wonderfully like it, came balancing back to¬ 
wards the sapucaya, bearing both Indian and Irishman upon 
its crest, landing them in the great fork where the galatea 
had gone to pieces, and then retiring without them! It 
seemed a piece of sheer good fortune, though no doubt it was 
a destiny more than half directed by the arm of the Indian, 
whose broad palm appeared to propel them through the 
water with the power of a paddle. 

To whatever indebted, chance or the prowess of the Mun- 
lurucu, certain it is that Tipperary Tom was rescued from a 
watery grave in the Gapo; and on seeing him along with 
his preserver safe in the fork of the tree, a general shout of 
congratulation, in which even the animals took part, pealed 
up through the branches, loud enough to be heard above the 
swishing of the leaves, the whistling of the wind, and the 
Burning of the angry waters, that seemed to hiss spitefully 
at. being disappointed of their prey. 


42 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


Tom’s senses had become somewhat confused by the duck- 
ing. Not so much, however, as to hinder him from perceiv¬ 
ing that in the fork, where the wave had deposited him and 
his preserver, he was still within reach of the swelling wa¬ 
ters ; seeing this, he was not slow to follow the example of 
the Mundurucu, who, “swarming” up the stem of the tree, 
placed himself in a safe and more elevated position. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A CONSULTATION IN THE TREE-TCP. 

I T would scarce be possible to conceive a situation more 
forlorn than that of the castaway crew of the galatea. 
Seated, standing, or astride upon the limbs of the sapucaya, 
their position was painful, and far from secure. The tem¬ 
pest continued, and it was with difficulty they could keep 
their places, every gust threatening to blow them out of the 
tree-top. Each clung to some convenient bough; and thus 
only were they enabled to maintain their balance. The 
branches, swept by the furious storm, creaked and crackled 
around them, — bending as if about to break under their feet* 
or in the hands that apprehensively grasped them. Some¬ 
times a huge pericarp, big as a cannon-ball, filled with heavy 
fruits, was detached from the pendulous peduncles, and went 
swizzing diagonally through the air before the wind, threat¬ 
ening a cracked crown to any who should be struck by 
it. One of the castaways met with this bit of ill-luck,— 
Mozey the Mozambique. It was well, however, that he 
was thus distinguished, since no other skull but his could 
have withstood the shock. As it was, the ball rebounded 
from the close woolly fleece that covered the negro’s crown, 



A CONSULTATION IN THII TREE-TOP. 


48 


as from a cushion, causing him no further trouble than a 
considerable fright. Mozey's looks and exclamations wer? 
ludicrous enough, had his companions been inclined for 
laughter. But they were not; their situation was too serious, 
and all remained silent, fully occupied in clinging to the tree, 
and moodily contemplating the scene of cheerless desolation 
that surrounded them. 

Till now, no one had speculated on anything beyond im¬ 
mediate safety. To escape drowning had been sufficient for 
their thoughts, and engrossed them for more than an hour 
after the galatea had gone down. Then a change began to 
creep over their spirits, — brought about by one observable 
in the spirit of the storm. It was, you remember, one of 
those tropical tempests, that spring up with unexpected celer¬ 
ity, and fall with equal abruptness. Now the tempest began 
to show signs of having spent itself. The tornado — a spe¬ 
cies of cyclone , usually of limited extent — had passed on, car¬ 
rying destruction to some other part of the great Amazonian 
plain. The wind lulled into short, powerless puffs, and the 
comparatively shallow waters of the Gapo soon ceased to' 
swell. By this time noon had come, and the sun looked 
down from a zenith of cloudless blue, upon an expanse of 
water_no more disturbed, and on branches no longer agitated 
by the stormy wind. 

This transformation, sudden and benign, exerted an in¬ 
fluence on the minds of our adventurers perched upon the 
sapucaya. No longer in immediate danger, their thoughts 
naturally turned to the future ; and they began to speculate 
upon a plan for extricating themselves from their unfortunate 
dilemma. 

On all aides save one, as far as the eye could ocan, nothing 
could be seen but open water, — the horizon not even broken 
by the branch of a tree. On the excepted side trees were vis 
ible,-not in clumps, or standing solitary, but in a continuous 
grove, with here and there some taller ones rising many fee* 


44 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


above their fellows. There could be no doubt that it was a 
forest,. It would have gratified them to have believed it a 
thicket, for then would they have been within sight and reach 
of land. But they could not think so consistently with their 
experience. It resembled too exactly that to which they had 
tied the galatea on the eve of the tempest, and they conjec¬ 
tured that what they saw was but the “ spray ” of a forest 
submerged. For all that, the design of reaching it as soon 
as the waters were calm was first in their minds. 

This was not so easy as might be supposed. Although the 
border of the verdant peninsula was scarce a quarter of a 
mile distant, there were but two in the party who could swim 
across to it. Had there existed the materials for making a raft* 
their anxiety need not have lasted long. But nothing of the 
kind was within reach. The branches of the sapucaya, even 
if they could be broken off, were too heavy, in their green 
growing state, to do more than to buoy up their own ponder¬ 
ous weight. So a sapucaya raft was not to be thought of, al¬ 
though it was possible that, among the tree-tops which they 
were planning to r$&ch, dead timber might be found sufficient 
to construct one. But this could be determined only after a 
reconnoissance of the submerged forest by Richard Trevan- 
nion and the Mfindurucii, who alone could make it. 

To this the patron hardly consented, — indeed, he was not 
asked. There seemed to be a tacit understanding that it 
was the only course that could be adopted; and without fur¬ 
ther ado, the young Paraense, throwing off such of his gar¬ 
ments as might impede him, sprang from the tree, and struck 
boldly out for the flooded forest. The Mundurucii, not beinr* 
delayed by the necessity of stripping, had already taken to 
the water, and was fast cleaving his way across the open 
expanse that separated the solitary sapucaya from its more 
social companions. 


A FRACAS HEARD FROM AFAR. 


46 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A FRACAS HEARD FROM AFAR. 

rpiIE castaways watched the explorers until they disap- 
JL peared within the shadowy selvage. Then, having 
nothing else to do, they proceeded to make themselves as 
comfortable as circumstances would permit, by selecting for 
their seats the softest branches of the sapucaya. To be sure 
there was not much choice between the limbs, but the great 
fork, across which the galatea had broken, appeared to offer 
a position rather better than any other. As the swell was 
no longer to be dreaded, Trevannion descended into the fork, 
taking little Rosa along with him, while the others sat on 
higher limbs, holding by the branches or stout llianas grow¬ 
ing above them. At best their situation was irksome, but 
physical inconvenience was hardly felt in their mental suffer¬ 
ings. Their reflections could not be other than painful as 
they contemplated the future. Their shelter in the sapu¬ 
caya could be only temporary, and yet it might continue to 
the end of their lives. They had no assurance that they 
might be able to get out of it at all; and even if they should 
succeed in reaching the other trees, it might be only to find 
them forty feet deep in water. The prospect was deplor¬ 
able and their forebodings gloomy. 

For nearly an hour they exchanged no word. The only 
sound heard was an occasional scream from one of the pet 
birds, or the jabbering of the monkeys, of which there had 
been five or six, of different kinds, on the galatea. Two only 
had found refuge on the tree, — a beautiful little Ouistiti , 
and a larger one, of the genus Ateles , the black Coaita. The 
others, chained or otherwise confined, had gone down with 
the galatea. So, too, with the feathered favorites, of many 
rare and beautiful kinds, collected during the long voyage on 


46 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the Upper Amazon, some of which had been bought at large 
prices from their Indian owners, to carry across the Atlantic. 
The caged had perished with the wreck, others by the tornado, 
and, like the quadrumana , only two of the birds had found 
an asylum on the tree. One was a splendid hyacinthine ma¬ 
caw, the Araruna of the Indians (Macrocercus hyacinthimis ) ; 
the other a small paroquet, the very tiniest of its tribe, which 
had long divided with the little ouistiti the affections of Rosa. 

About an hour had elapsed since the departure of the swim¬ 
ming scouts, with no signs of their return. The party cast 
anxious glances towards the place where they had last been 
seen, listening for any sounds from the thicket that concealed 
them. Once or twice they fancied they heard their voices, 
and then they were all sure they heard shouts, but mingling 
with some mysterious sounds in a loud, confused chorus. 
The coaita heard, and chattered in reply; so, too, did the 
ouistiti and paroquet; but the macaw seemed most disturbed, 
and once or twice, spreading its hyacinthine wings, rose into 
the air, and appeared determined to part from its ci-devant 
protectors. The call of Ralph, whose especial pet it was, al¬ 
lured it back to its perch, where, however, it only stayed in a 
state of screaming uncertainty. There was something strange 
in this behavior, though in the anxiety of the hour but little 
heed was paid to it; and as the voices soon after ceased, the 
araruna became tranquillized, and sat quietly on the roost i f . 
had selected. 

Once more, however, the shouting and strange cries came 
pealing across the water, and again the araruna gave, evidence 
of excitement. This time the noise was of shorter duration, 
and soon terminated in complete tranquillity. Nearly two 
hours had now expired, and the countenances of all began 
to wear an expression of the most sombre character. Cer¬ 
tainly they had heard the voices of Richard and the Mundu- 
mcu mingling with those unearthly sounds. There was time 
enough for them to have gone far into the unknown forest. 


THE JARARAoA. 


47 


und return. What could detain them? Their voices had 
been heard only in shouts and sharp exclamations, that pro* 
claimed them to be in some critical, perhaps perilous situation. 
And now they were silent! Had they succumbed to some 
sad fate ? Were they dead ? 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE JARARACA. 

T HERE art* bodily sensations stronger than many mental 
emotions. Such are hunger and thirst. The castaways 
in the tree-top began to experience both in an extreme degree. 
By good fortune, the means of satisfying them were within 
reach. With a “ monkey-cup ” emptied of its triangular ker¬ 
nels they could draw up water at will, and with its contents con¬ 
quer the cravings of hunger. At his father’s request, and stim¬ 
ulated by his own sensations, Ralph began climbing higher, 
to procure some of the huge fruit-capsules suspended — as is 
the case with most South American forest-trees — from the 
extremities of the branches. The boy was a bold and skilful 
climber among the crags and cliffs of his native Cordilleras. 
Still a tree did not come amiss to him, and in a twinkling he 
had ascended to the top branches of the sapucaya,.the macaw 
making the ascent with him, perched upon his crown. All 
nt once the bird began to scream, as if startled by some ter¬ 
rible apparition ; and without losing an instant, it forsook its 
familiar place, and commenced fluttering around the top of 
the tree, still continuing its cries. What could be the cause? 
The boy looked above and about him, but could discover noth¬ 
ing. The screams of the araruna were instantly answered 
by the little paroquet in a tiny treble, but equally in accent* 



48 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


of terror, whLe both the coaita and ouistiti, chattering in 
alarm, came bounding up the tree. The paroquet had already 
joined the macaw, and, as if in imitation of its great con¬ 
gener, flew fluttering among the top branches, in a state of 
the wildest excitement! Guided by the birds, that kept cir 
cling around one particular spot, the boy at length discovered 
the cause of the alarm; and the sight was one calculated to 
stir terror. 

It was a serpent coiled around a lliana that stretched diag¬ 
onally between two branches. It was of a yellowish-browu 
color, near to that of the lliana itself; and but for its smooth, 
shining skin, and the elegant convolutions of its body, might 
have been mistaken for one parasite entwining another. Its 
head, however, was in motion, its long neck stretched out, ap¬ 
parently m readiness to seize upon one of the birds as soon 
as it should come within striking distance.. 

Ralph was not so much alarmed. A snake was no uncom¬ 
mon sight, and the one in question was not so monstrous as 
to appear very formidable. The first thought was to call of! 
the birds, or in some way get them out of reach of the snake j 
for the imprudent creatures, instead of retreating from such a 
dangerous enemy, seemed determined to fling themselves up¬ 
on its fangs, which Ralph could see erect and glistening, as 
at intervals it extended its jaws. The little paroquet was 
especially imprudent, recklessly approaching within a few 
inches of the serpent, and even alighting on the lliana around 
which it had warped itself. Ralph was ascending still higher, 
to take the bird in his hand, and carry it clear of the danger, 
when his climbing was suddenly arrested by a shout from 
Mozey, the Mozambique, thatproclaimed both caution and 
terror. “ Fo’ you life doant, Mass’r Raff! ” cried the negro, 
following up his exclamation of warning. “ Fo’ you life 
doant go near urn! You no know what am dat ar snake i 
It am de Jararaca/ ” 

“ Jararaca! ” mechanically rejoined Ralph. 


THE JARARACA. 


49 


“Ya — ya — de raoas pisenous sarpin in all de valley oil 
de Amazon. I ’se hear de Injine say so a score ob times. 
Come down, Mass’r! come down! ” 

Attracted by the screaming of the birds and the chattering 
of the monkeys, the others listened attentively below. But 
upon the negro’s quick cry of warning, and the dialogue that 
ensued, Trevannion ascended higher, followed by Tipperary 
Tom, — Rosa remained alone below, in the fork where her 
father had left her. Trevannion, on coming in sight of the 
snake, at once recognized it as all that Mozey had alleged, — 
the most poisonous of the Amazon valley, — a species of 
Craspedocephalus. He knew it from having seen one before, 
which the Mundurucu had killed near Coary, and had de¬ 
scribed in similar terms, — adding that its bite was almost 
instantly fatal, that it will attack man or beast without any 
provocation, that it can spring upon its enemy from a dis¬ 
tance, and, finally, that it was more feared than any other 
creature in the country, not excepting the jaguar and ja- 
care! 

The appearance of the reptile itself was sufficient to con¬ 
firm this account. Its flat triangular head, connected with 
the body by a long thin neck, its glittering eyes and red fork¬ 
ing tongue, projected at intervals more than an inch beyond 
its snout, gave the creature a monstrous and hideous aspect. 
It looked as if specially designed to cause death and destruc¬ 
tion. It was not of great size, — scarcely six feet long, and 
not thicker than a girl’s wrist; but it needed not bulk to make 
it dangerous. No one knew exactly what to do. All were 
without arms, or weapons of any kind. These had long since 
gone to the bottom of the Gapo; and for some minutes no 
movement was made except by young Ralph, who on being 
warned of his danger, had hastened to descend the tree. The 
birds were left to themselves, and stili continued screaming 
and fluttering above. Up to this time the snake had re¬ 
mained motionless, except his oscillating head and neck. Its 
3 » 


50 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


body now began to move, and the glittering folds slowly to 
relax their hold upon the lliana. 

“ Great God ! he is coming down the tree ! ” The words 
had hardly left Trevannion’s lips before the snake was seen 
crawling along the lliana, and the next moment transferring 
its body to a branch which grew slantingly from the main 
trunk. This was soon reached ; and then, by means of 
another lliana lying parallel to it, the reptile continued its 
descent. All those who stood by the trunk hastily forsook 
the perilous place, and retreated outward along the branches. 
The jararaca seemed to take no note either of their presence 
or flight, but continued down the limb towards the fork of 
the main stem, where stood little Rosa. “ O heavens! ” 
cried Trevannion, in a voice of anguish, “ my child is lost! ” 

The girl had risen to her feet, being already fearful of the 
danger threatening her friends above; but on looking up, 
she beheld the hideous reptile coming straight towards her. 
Her situation was most perilous. The lliana by which the 
snake was descending rose right up from the fork of the sapu- 
caya. The child was even clasping it in her hand, to keep 
herself erect. The reptile could not pass without touching 
her. In fact, it must pass over her person to get down from 
the tree. There was no likelihood of its gliding on without 
striking her. Its well-known character — as the most mali¬ 
cious of venomous serpents — forbade the supposition. The 
snake was scarce ten feet above her head, still gliding on¬ 
ward and downward! It was at this crisis that her father 
had given voice to that despairing exclamation^ He was 
about to scramble down to the trunk, with the design of 
launching himself upon the serpent, and grappling it with 
his naked hands, reckless of consequences, when a sign from 
Mozey, accompanied by some* words quickly spoken, caused 
him to hesitate. 

“No use, Mass’r!” cried the negro, “no use, — you be 
too late. Jump, lilly Rosy!” he continued, calling to the 


HOLD ON! 


51 


child in a loud, commanding voice. “ It’s you only chance. 
Jump into de water, an ole Mozey he come down sabe you. 
Jump ! ” To stimulate the child by his example, the negro, 
with his last word, sprang out from his branch and plunged 
into the water. In an instant he was upon the surface 
again, continuing his cries of encouragement. Rosa Trevan- 
nion was a girl of spirit; and, in this fearful alternative, hesi¬ 
tated not a moment to obey. Short as was the time, how¬ 
ever, it would have proved too long had the snake continued 
its descent without interruption. Fortunately it did not. 
When its hideous head was close to the child’s hand, where 
the latter grasped the Ilian a, it suddenly stopped, — not to 
prepare itself for the fatal dart, but because the negro’s 
heavy fall had splashed much water against the tree, sprink¬ 
ling child and jararaca too. It was the momentary surprise 
of this unexpected shower-bath that had checked the serpent, 
while Rosa dropped down into the Gapo, and was caught by 
her 6able preserver. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

HOLD ON! 

M OZEY’S noble conduct elicited a cry of admiration 
It was the more noble as the negro was a poor swim 
mer, and therefore risked his own life. But this produced 
another effect, and in the shout there was no tone of triumph. 
The child was perhaps only rescued from the reptile to be 
swallowed with her preserver by a monster far more vora¬ 
cious, the ingulfing Gapo. Nor was it yet certain that she 
had been saved from the serpent. The jararaca is a snake 
eminently amphibious, alike at home on land or at sea. It 
might follow, and attack them in the water. Then, too, it 



AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


152 

would have a double advantage; for while it could swim 
like a fish, Mozey could just keep himself afloat, weighted as 
he was with his powerless burden. In view of this, Trevan- 
nion’s heart was filled with most painful anxiet} r , and for 
some time neither he nor any beside him could think what 
course to pursue. It was some slight relief to them to per¬ 
ceive that the snake did not continue the pursuit into the 
water; for on reaching the fork of the tree it had thrown it¬ 
self into a coil, as if determined to remain there. 

At first there appeared no great advantage in this. In its 
position, the monster could prevent the swimmers from re¬ 
turning to the tree; and as it craned its long neck outward 
and looked maliciously at the two forms struggling below, 
one could have fancied that it had set itself to carry out this 
exact design. For a short time only Trevannion was speech¬ 
less, and then thought, speech, and action came together. 
“ Swim round to the other side! ” he shouted to the negro. 
“ Get under the great branch. Ho, Tom ! You and Ralph 
climb aloft to the one above. Tear off the lliana you see 
there, and let it down to me. Quick, quick ! ” 

As he delivered these instructions, he moved out along 
the limb with as much rapidity as was consistent with safety, 
while Tipperary and Ralph climbed up to carry out his com¬ 
mands. The branch taken by Trevannion himself was that 
to which he had directed the negro to swim, and was the 
same by which Tipperary Tom had made his first ascent into 
the tree, and from which he had been washed off again. It 
extended horizontally outward, at its extremity dipping 
slightly towards the water. Though in the swell caused by 
the tornado it had been at intervals submerged, it was now 
too far above tlie surface to have been grasped by any one 
from below. The weight of Trevannion’s body, as he crept 
outward upon it, brought it nearer to the water, but not near 
enough for a swimmer to lay hold. He saw that, by going 
too far out, the branch would not bear his own weight, and 


HOLD ON! 


53 



might snap short off, thus leaving the swimmers in a worse 
position than ever. It w'as for this reason lie had ordered 
the untwining of the creeper that was clinging above. His 
orders w T ere obeyed with the utmost alacrity by Tom and 
Ralph, as if their own lives depended on the speed. Almost 
before he was ready to receive it, the long lliana was 
wrenched from its tendril fastenings, and came straggling 
down over the branch on which he sat, like the stay of a ship 
loosened from her mast-head. 

Meanwhile Mozey, — making as much noise as a young 
whale, blowing like a porpoise, spurting and spitting like an 
angry cat, — still carrying the child safir-cm his shouldeis, 


b*d arrived under the limb, and, with strokes somewhat ir¬ 
regularly given and quickly repeated, was doing his very 
best to keep himself and her above water It was evideu/ 

















54 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


to all, that the over-weigh ted swimmer was wellnigh ex¬ 
hausted; and had not the end of the long lliana plumped 
down in the nick of time, the Mozambique must indubitably 
have gone to the bottom, taking his charge with him. Jus* 
in time, however, the tree-cable came within his clutch, and, 
seizing it with all his remaining strength, Rosa relieved him 
of her weight by laying hold herself, and the two were drawn 
up into the tree amidst cries of “ Hold on! hold on! ” ending 
in general congratulation. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE PAROQUET. 


LAS! there was one circumstance that hindered then 



triumph from being complete. The jararaca was still in 
the tree. So long as this terrible tenant shared their abode, 
there could be neither confidence nor comfort. There it lay 
coiled upon its scaly self, snugly ensconced in the fork below, 
with skin glittering brightly, and eyes gleaming fiercely in the 
golden sunlight that now fell slantingly against the tree. How 
long would the monster remain in this tranquil attitude, was 
the question that presented itself to the minds of all, as soon 
as the first transport of their joy had subsided. It was evident 
it had no intention of taking to the water, though it could 
have done so without fear. No doubt the sapucaya was its 
habitual haunt; and it was not likely to forsake it just to 
accommodate some half-score of strange creatures who had 
chosen to intrude. Surely some time or other it would re- 
*scend the tree, and then — ? 

But all speculations on this point were soon interrupted. 
The little paroquet, which had shown such excitement on first 
discovering the snake, had been quiet while all were engaged 



THE PAROQUET. 


55 


In the salvage of Mozey and the child. Now that a certain 
quietness had been restored, the bird was seen returning to 
the jararaca for the supposed purpose of renewing its impo¬ 
tent attack. For some minutes it kept fluttering over the 
serpent, now alighting upon a branch, anon springing off 
again, and descending to one lower and nearer to the jararaca,. 
until it had almost reached its head. Strange to say, there 
appeared no hostility in the bird’s movements; its actions be¬ 
trayed rather the semblance of fear, confirmed by the tremu¬ 
lous quivering of its frame whenever it came to rest upon 
a perch. The spectators’ suspicion was further strengthened 
by the little creature’s continued cries. It was not the angry 
chattering by which these birds usually convey their hostility, 
but a sort of plaintive screaming that betokened terror. At 
each flight it approached closer to the serpent’s forked tongue, 
and then retreated, as if vacillating and irresolute. 

The reptile meanwhile exhibited itself in a hideous attitude ; 
yet a deep interest enchained the spectators. Its head had 
* broadened, or flattened out to twice the natural dimensions; 
* the eyes seemed to shoot forth twin jets of fire, while the ex¬ 
tensile tongue, projected from a double row of white, angular 
teeth, appeared to shine with phosphorescent flame. The bird 
was being charmed , and was already under the serpent’s fas¬ 
cination. 

How could the pretty pet be saved ? Young Ralph, no¬ 
ticing the despair upon his sister’s face, was half inclined to 
rush down the tree, and give battle to the jararaca; and Tippe- 
iary Tom—whose general hostility to snakes and reptiles had a 
national and hereditary origin — purposed doing something to 
avert the paroquet’s fast-approaching fate. Trevannion, how¬ 
ever, was too prudent to permit any interference, while the 
negro appeared only anxious that the magic spectacle should 
reach its termination. It was not cruelty on his part. Mozey 
had his motives, which were soon after revealed, proving that 
the brain of tho African is at times capable of conception 


56 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


equal, if not superior, to his boasted Caucasian brother. 
There was no interruption. The end was not far off. By 
slow degrees, the bird appeared to grow exhausted, until its 
wings could no longer sustain it. Then, as if paralyzed by 
a final despair, it pitched itself right into the mouth of the rep¬ 
tile, whose jaws "had been suddenly extended to receive it! 
There was a slight flutter of the wings, a tremulous motion of 
the body, and the self-immolated creature appeared to be dead. 
The serpent, half uncoiling itself, turned its head towards the 
tree, and, once more opening its jaws, permitted the now life¬ 
less paroquet to escape from their clasp, and drop quietly into 
the crotch formed by the forking of the stem. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE LLIANA UNLOOSED. 



HE spectators of this little tragedy of animal life had hith- 


JL erto prudently refrained from taking part in it. Curiosity 
now exerted an equal effect in preventing their interference; 
and without speech or motion they sat on their respective 
perches to observe the finale of the drama, which evidently 
had not ended with the death of the paroquet. That was 
but the beginning of the end, for the prey was yet to be de¬ 
voured. Though provided with a double row of teeth, it is 
well known that animals of the reptile kind do not masticate 
their food. These teeth, set trenchantly, as is commonly the 
case, are intended only to capture the living prey, which enters 
the stomach afterwards by a process termed deglutition. At 
the spectacle of just such a process, with all its preliminary 
preparations, were the group in the sapucaya now to be pres- 
ent, the principal performer being apparently unconscious 
^f, or at all events unconcerned at, their presence. 



THE LLIANA DNLOOSED. 


57 


Having deposited the dead bird in the fork of the tree, the 
serpent changed its coiled attitude into one that would give 
it a chance of filling its belly with less incor venience. There 
was not room for it to extend itself fully; and, in default of 
this, the tail was allowed to drop down along the stem 
of the tree, at least two thirds of the body remaining in a 
horizontal position. Having arranged itself apparently to 
its satisfaction, it now directed its attention to the paroquet. 
Once more taking the dead bird between its teeth, it turned 
it over and over until the head lay opposite to its own, the 
body aligned in a longitudinal direction. The jaws of the 
snake were now widely extended, while the tongue, loaded 
with saliva, was protruded and retracted with great rapidity. 
The serpent continued this licking process until the short 
feathers covering the head of the bird, as also its neck and 
shoulders, seemed to be saturated with a substance resem¬ 
bling soap or starch. When a sufficient coating had been 
laid on to satisfy the instincts of the serpent, the creature 
once more opened its jaws, and, making a sudden gulp, took 
in the head of the paroquet, with the neck and shoulders. 
For a time no further action was perceptible. Yet a move¬ 
ment was going on : and it was to assure himself of this that 
the Mozambique was so attentive. 

We have said that he had a motive for permitting the pet 
to be sacrificed, which was now on the eve of being revealed 
to his companions. They all saw that there was something 
upon his mind, and eagerly anticipated the revelation. Just 
as the jararaca had succeeded in bolting the anterior portion 
of the paroquet, — that is, the head, neck, and shoulders, — 
Mozey rose from his seat, stole towards the stem of the tree, 
and let himself down toward the fork, without saying a word. 
His purpose, however, was manifest the moment after, for he 
stretched out his right hand, clutched the jararaca around 
the small of the neck, and flung the serpent — no longer 
capable of defending itself—far out into the waters of the 
3 * 


53 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


Gapo! The monster, with its feathered morsel still in its 
mouth, sank instantly, to be seen no more; so thought Mozey 
and his associates in the sapucaya. 

But, as the event proved, they had hastened to an errone* 
ous conclusion. Scarce had their triumphant cheer echoed 
across the silent bosom of the Gapo, when the paroquet was 
observed floating upon the water; and the snake, having 
ejected the half-swallowed pill, was once more upon the sur¬ 
face, swimming with sinuous but brisk rendings of its body 
in rapid return to the tree. The situation seemed more 
alarming than ever. The fiend himself could hardly have 
shown a more implacable determination. 

To all appearance the jararaca was now returning to take 
revenge for the insult and disappointment to which it had 
been subjected. Mozey, losing confidence in his own cun¬ 
ning, retreated up the tree. He perceived, now that it was 
too Lte, the imprudence of which he had been guilty. He 
should have permitted the snake to proceed a step further 
in the process of deglutition, until the disgorging of the paro¬ 
quet, against the grain of its feathers, should have become 
impossible. He had been too hasty, and must now answe** 
the consequences. Sure enough, the serpent returned to the 
sapucaya and commenced reascending, availing itself of the 
lliana, by which all of its enemies had effected their ascent. 
In a few seconds it had mounted into the fork, and, still ad¬ 
hering to the parasite, was continuing its upward way. 

“O heavens!” ejaculated Trevannion, “one of us must 
become the prey of this pitiless monster! What can be 
done to destroy it ? ” 

“ Dar’s a chance yet, Mass’r,” cried Mozey, who had sud¬ 
denly conceived a splendid thought. “ Dar’s a chance yet. 
All ob you lay hold on de creepin’ vine, an’ pull um out from 
de tree. We chuck de varmint back into the water. Now 
den, — all togedder! Pull like good uns ! ” 

As the negro spoke, he seized the lliana, by which the set 


THE LLIANA UNLOOSED. 


59 


pent was making its spiral ascent, and put out all his strongth 
to detach it from the trunk of the sapucaya. The others in¬ 
stantly understood his design, and grasping the parasite, with 
a simultaneous effort tried to tear it off. A quick jerk broke 
the lliana loose; and the jararaca, shaken from its hold, was 
sent whirling and writhing through the air, till it fell with a 
plunging noise upon the water below. Once more a trium¬ 
phant cheer went up through the sapucaya branches, onc§ 
more to be stifled ere it had received the. answer of its own 
echoes; for the jararaca was again seen upon the surface, as 
before, determinedly approaching the tree. 

It was a sight for despair. There was something super 
natural in the behavior of the snake. It was a monster not 
to be conquered by human strength, nor circumvented by 
human cunning. Was there any use in continuing the at¬ 
tempt to subdue it? Mozey, a fatalist, felt half disposed to 
submit to a destiny that could not be averted; and even Tip¬ 
perary Tom began to despair of the power of his prayers to 
St. Patrick. The ex-miner, however, as well acquainted 
with the subterraneous regions as with upper earth, had no 
superstition to hinder him from action, and, instead of de- 
Bponding he at once adopted the proper course. Catching 
hold of the creeper, that had already been loosened from the 
trunk, and calling upon the others to assist him, he tore the 
creeper entirely from the tree, flinging its severed stem far 
out upon the water. In a moment after, the snake came up, 
intending to climb into the sapucaya, as no doubt it had often 
done before. We wonder what were its feelings on finding 
that the ladder had been removed, and that an ascent of the 
smooth trunk of the sapucaya was no longer possible, even 
to a tree snake ! After swimming round and round, and 
trying a variety of places, the discomfited jarardca turned 
away in apparent disgust; and, launching out on the bosom 
of the Gapo, swam off in the direction of the thicket, — on 
the identical track that had been taken by R chaid and tha 
Mundurucu. 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


so 


CHAPTER XIX. 

SERPENT FASCINATION. 

I T was some time before Trevannion and his companions in 
misfortune could recover from the excitement and awe 
of their adventure. They began to believe that the strange 
tales told them of the Gapo and its denizens had more than a 
substratum of truth; for the protracted and implacable hos¬ 
tility shown by the snake, and its mysterious power over the 
bird, seemed surely supernatural. Trevannion reflected on 
the singular behavior of the jar^raca. That a reptile of such 
contemptible dimensions should exhibit so much cunning and 
courage as to return to the attack after being repeatedly foiled, 
and by an enemy so far its superior in strength and numbers, 
together with its hideous aspect, could not fail to impress him 
with A feeling akin to horror, in which all those around him 
shared. The very monkeys and birds must have felt it; for 
when in the presence of snakes, they had never before ex¬ 
hibited sucli trepidation and excitement. Long after the ser¬ 
pent had been pitched for the second time into the water, the 
coaita kept up its terrified gibbering, the macaw-screamed, 
and the tiny ouistiti, returning to Rosa’s protection, — no lon¬ 
ger to be shared with its late rival, — sat tumbling in her 
lap, as if the dreaded reptile were still within dangerous prox- 
• imity. 

This feeling was but temporary, however. Trevannion 
was a man of strong intellect, trained and cultivated by ex¬ 
perience and education; and after a rational review of the 
circumstances, he became convinced that there was nothing 
very extraordinary, certainly nothing supernatural, in what 
transpired. Thejararaca — as he had heard, and as every¬ 
body living on the Amazon knew — was one of the most 
venomous of serpents, if not the most venomous of all. Even 


SERrENT FASCINATION. 


fii 

the birds and beasts were acquainted with this common fact, 
and dreaded the reptile accordingly, not from mere instinct , 
but from actual knowledge possessed and communicated iu 
some mysterious way to one another. This would account 
for the wild terror just exhibited, which in the case of the 
paroquet had come to a fatal end. There was a mystery about 
this for which Trevannion could not account. • The power 
which the serpent appeared to have obtained over the bird, 
controlling its movements without any apparent action of its 
own, was beyond comprehension. Whether or not it be en¬ 
titled to the name given it,— fascination , certainly it is a 
fact, — one that has been repeatedly observed, and to which 
not only birds, but quadrupeds, have been the victims; and 
not only by ordinary observers, but by men skilled in the 
knowledge of nature, who have been equally at a loss to ac¬ 
count for it by natural causes. But this link in the chain of 
incidents, though mysterious, was not new nor peculiar to this 
situation. It had been known to occur in all countries and 
climes, and so soon ceased to excite any weird influence on 
the mind of Trevannion. 

For the other circumstances that had occurred there was 
an explanation still more natural. The jararaca, peculiarly 
an inhabitant of the Gapo lands, had simply been sunning 
itself upon the sapucaya. It may have been prowling about” 
in the water when overtaken by the- tornado ; and, not wish- 
in" to be carried away from its haunt, had sought a temporary 
shelter in the tree, to which an unlucky chance had guided 
the galatea. Its descent was due to the behavior of the birds ; 
which, after having for a time tantalized it, — provoking its 
spite, and in all likelihood its hungry appetite, — had tempo¬ 
rarily suspended their attack, returning down the tree with 
Ralph and the negro. It was in pursuit of them, therefore, 
U had forsaken its original perch. The commotion caused 
by its descent, but more especially the ducking it had received 
and the presence of the two human forms in the water below 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


62 

liad indu it to halt in the forking of the tree, where shortly 
after its natural prey again presented itself,—ending in an 
episode that was to it an ordinary occurrence. The choking 
it had received in the hands of the negro, and its unexpected 
immersion, bad caused the involuntary rejection of the half- 
swallowed morsel. In the opaque water it had lost sight of 
the bird, and was returning to the sapucaya either in search 
of its food, or to reoccupy its resting-place. 

It is well known that the jararaca has no fear of man, but 
will attack him whenever he intrudes upon its domain. The 
Indians assert that it will even go out of its way for this pur¬ 
pose, unlike the rattlesnake and other venomous reptiles, 
which rarely exert their dangerous power except in self- 
defence. So this jararaca reascended the sapucaya un¬ 
dismayed by the human enemies it saw there, one or more 
of whom might have become its victims but for the timely 
removal of the lliana ladder. 

0n this review of facts and fancies, the equanimity of our 
adventurers was nearly restored. At all events, they were 
relieved from the horrible thoughts of the supernatural, that 
for a time held ascendancy over them. Their hunger and 
thirst again manifested themselves, though little Rosa and 
her preserver no longer suffered from the last. In their 
short excursion both had been repeatedly under water, and 
had swallowed enough to last them for that day at least. Yet 
they were in want of food, and Ralph once more climbed the 
tree to obtain it. He soon possessed himself of half a dozen 
of the huge nut capsules, which were tossed into the hands of 
those below, and, water being drawn up in one of the emptied 
shells, a meal was made, which if not hearty, was satisfactory. 
The group could do no more than await the return of their 
absent companions ; and with eyes fixed intently and anx 
iously upon the dark water, and beneath the close-growing 
trees, they watched for the first ripple that might betoken 
their coming 


THE WATER ARCADE. 


S3 


CHAPTER XX 

THE WATER ARCADE. 

W E must leave for a time the castaways in the tree-top, 
and follow the fortunes of the two swimmers on their 
exploring expedition. 

On reaching the edge of the submerged forest, their first 
thought was to clutch the nearest branch, and rest themselves 
by clinging to it. They were no longer in doubt as to the 
character of the scene that surrounded them, for their expe¬ 
rience enabled them to comprehend it. 

“ The Gapo ! ” muttered Munday, as they glided in under 
the shadows. “ No dry land here, young master,” he added, 
clutching hold of a lliana. “We may as well look out for a 
roost, and rest ourselves. It’s full ten fathoms deep. The 
Mundurucd can tell that by the sort of trees rising over it.” 

“ I did n’t expect anything else,” rejoined young Trevan- 
nion, imitating his companion by taking hold of a branch and 
climbing up. “ My only hope is that we may find some float 
timber to ferry the others across. Not that there’s much in 
!t if we do. How we ’re to find our way out of this mess is 
more than either you or I can tell.” 

“The Mundurucu never despairs, — not even in the mid¬ 
dle of the Gapo,” was the Indian’s proud reply. 

“ You have hope, then ? You think we shall find timber 
enough for a raft to carry us clear of the inundation.” 

“ No! ” answered the Indian. “ We have got too far from 
the channel of the big river. We shall see no floating trees 
here, — nothing to make a raft that would carry us.” 

“ Why then did we come here, if not for the purpose of 
finding dead timber for that object?” 

“Dead timber? No! If that was our errand, we might 
go back as we ’ve coine, — empty-handed. We shall float 


54 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 




all the people over here without that. Follow me, young 
master. We must go farther into the Gapo. Let old Mun- 
day show you how to construct a raft without trees, only 
making use of their fruit.” 

“Lead on!” cried the Paraense. “I ’m ready to assist 
you; though I have n’t the slightest conception of what you 
mean to do.” 

“ You shall see presently, young master,” rejoined Munday 
once more spreading himself to swim. “ Come on! follow 
me! If I’m not mistaken, we ’ll soon find the materials for 
a raft, — or something that will answer as well for the 
present. Come along, there ! Come!” — and he launched 
himself into the water. 

Trevannion followed hia example, and, once more consign¬ 
ing himself to the flood, he swam on in the Indian’s wake. 
Through ahles dimmed with a twilight like that of approach¬ 
ing night, along arcades covered with foliage so luxuriant as 
to be scarce penetrable by the rays of a tropic sun, the two 
swimmers, the Indian ever in advance, held their way. 

To Richard Trevannion the Mundurucii was compara¬ 
tively a stranger, known only as a tapuyo employed by his 
uncle in the management of the galatea. He knew the tribe 
by rumors even' more than sinister. They were reputed in 
Para to be the most bloodthirsty of savages, who took de¬ 
light not only in the destruction of their enemies, but in keep¬ 
ing up a ghastly souvenir of hostility by preserving their 
heads. In the company of a Mundurucii, especially in such 
a place, — swimming under the sombre shadows of a sub¬ 
merged forest, — it can scarce be wondered at that the youth 
felt suspicion, if not actual fear. But Richard Trevannion 
was a boy of bold heart, and bravely awaited the denouement 
of the dismal journey. 

Their swim terminated at length, and the Indian, pointing 
to a tree, cried out: “ Yonder — yonder is the very thing of 
which I was in search. Iloohoo! Covered with sipos too, 


THE WATER ARCADE. 


6ft 


— another thing we stand in need of, — cord and pitch both 
growing together. The Great Spirit is kind to us, young 
master.” 

“What is it?” demanded Richard. “I see a great tree, 
loaded with climbers as you say. But what of that ? It is 
green, and growing. The wood is full of sap, and would 
scarce float itself; you can’t construct a raft out of that. 
The sipos might serve well enough for rope; but the tim¬ 
ber won’t do, even if we had an axe to cut it down.” 

“ The Mundurucu needs no axe, nor yet timber to con¬ 
struct his raft. All he wants here is the sap of that tree, and 
some of the sipos clinging to its branches. The timber we 
shall find on the sapucaya, after we go back. Look at the 
tree, young master! Do you not know it ? ” 

The Paraense, thus appealed to, turned his eyes toward 
the tree, and scanned it more carefully. Festooned by many 
kinds of climbing plants, it was not so easy to distinguish its 
foliage from that of the parasites it upheld; enough of the 
leaves, however, appeared conspicuous to enable him to rec¬ 
ognize the tree as one of the best known and most valuable 
to the inhabitants, not only of his native Pard, but of all the 
Amazonian region, “ Certainly,” he replied, “ I see what 
sort of tree it is. It’s the Seringa , — the tree from which 
they obtain caoutchouc. But what do you want with that? 
You can’t make a raft out of India-rubber, can you ? ” 

“ You shall see, young master; you shall see! ” 

During this conversation the Mundurucu had mounted 
among the branches of the seringa, calling upon his compan¬ 
ion to come after him, who hastily responded to the ‘•ML 


66 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE SYRINGE-TREE. 

T HE tree into whose top the swimmers had ascended was, 
as Richard had rightly stated, that from which the caout¬ 
chouc, or India-rubber, is obtained. It was the Siphonia elas - 
tica, of the order Euphorbiacece , of the Amazonian valley. 
Not that the Siphonia is the only tree which produces the 
world-renowned substance, which has of late years effected 
almost a revolution in many arts, manufactures, and domestic 
economies of civilized life. There are numerous other trees, 
both in the Old and New World, most of them belonging to 
the famed family of the figs, which in some degree afford the 
caoutchouc of commerce. Of all, however, that yielded by 
the Siphonia elastica is the best, and commands the highest 
price among dealers. The young Paraense called it Seringa , 
and this is the name lie had been accustomed to hear given 
to it. Seringa is simply the Portuguese for syringe, and the 
name has attached itself to the tree, because the use which 
the aborigines were first observed to make of the elastic 
tubes of the caoutchouc was that of squirts or syringes, the 
idea being suggested by their noticing the natural tubes 
formed by the sap around twigs, when flowing spontaneously 
from the tree. For syringes it is employed extensively to 
this day by Brazilians of all classes, who construct them by 
moulding the sap, while in its fluid state, into pear-shaped 
bottles, and inserting a piece of cane in the long neck. 

The caoutchouc is collected in the simplest way, which af¬ 
fords a regular business to many Amazonians, chiefly native 
Indians, who dispose of it to the Portuguese or Brazilian 
traders. The time is in August, when the subsidence of the 
annual inundation permits approach to the trees; for the 
Seringa is due of those species that prefer the low Hooded 


THE SYRINGK-TREE. 


G? 

lands, though it is not altogether peculiar to the Gapo. It 
grows throughout the whole region of the Amazon, wherever 
the soil is alluvial and marshy. The India-rubber harvest, 
if we may use the term, continues throughout the dry months, 
during which time very large quantities of the sap are col¬ 
lected, and carried over to the export market of Para. A 
number of trees growing within a prescribed circle are al¬ 
lotted to each individual, whose business it is — man, woman, 
or boy — to attend to the assigned set of trees; and this is 
the routine of their day’s duty. 

In the evening the trees are tapped; that is, a gash or 
incision is made in the bark, — each evening in a fresh place, 
— and under each is carefully placed a little clay cup, or 
else the shell of an Ampullasia , to catch the milky sap that 
oozes from the wound. After sunrise in the morning, the 
u milkers ” again revisit the scene of operations, and empty 
all the cups into a large vessel, which is carried to one com¬ 
mon receptacle. By this time the sap, which is still of a 
white color, is of the consistency of cream, and ready for 
moulding. The collectors have already provided themselves, 
with moulds of many kinds, according to the shape they wish 
the caoutchouc to assume, such as shoes, round balls, bottles 
with long necks, and the like. These are dipped into the 
liquid, a thin stratum of which adheres to them, to be made 
thicker by repeated immersions, until the proper dimensions 
are obtained. After the last coat has been laid on, lines and 
ornamental tracings are made upon the surface, while still 
in a soft state ; and a rich brown color is obtained by passing 
the articles repeatedly through a thick black smoke, given 
cut by a fire of palm-wood, — several species of these trees 
being specially employed for this purpose. As the moulds 
are usually solid substances, and the shoes, balls, and bottles 
are cast on, and not in them, it may be wondered how the 
latter can be taken off, or the former got out. King George 
would have been as badly puzzled about this, as he was 


68 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


in regard to the apples in the padding. The idea of the 
Amazonian aboriginal, though far more ingenious, is equally 
easy of explanation. His bottle-moulds are no better than 
balls of dried mud, or clay; and so too, the lasts upon which 
he fashions the India-rubber shoes. Half an hour’s immer¬ 
sion in water is sufficient to restore them to their original 
condition of soft mud; when a little scraping and washing 
completes the manufacture, and leaves the commodity in 
readiness for the merchant and the market. 

The Seringa is not a tree of very distinguished appearance, 
and but for its valuable sap might be passed in a forest of 
Amazonia, where so many magnificent trees meet the eye, 
without eliciting a remark. Both in the color of its bark ana 
the outline of its leaves it bears a considerable resemblance to 
the European ash, — only that it grows to a far greater size, 
and with a stem that is branchless, often to the height of 
thirty or forty feet above the ground. The trunk of that on 
which the Mundurucu and his companion had climbed was 
under water to that depth, else they could not so easily have 
ascended. It was growing in its favorite situation, — the 
Gapo, — its top festooned, as we have said, with scores of 
parasitical plants, of many different species, forming a com¬ 
plete labyrinth of limbs, leaves, fruits, and flowers. 


CHAPTER XXII 


A BATTLE WITH BIRDS, 



CARCE had the Paraense succeeded in establishing 

o 


KJ himself on the tree, wdien an exclamation from his 
companion, higher up among the branches, caused him to 
look aloft. “ Iloo-hoo! ” was the cry that came from the 
lips of the Mundurucu, in a tone of gratification. 



A BATTLE WITH BIRDS. 


6« 


“What is it, Munday?” 

‘‘Something good to eat, master?” 

“I ’m glad to hear it. I feel hungry enough in all con 
science; and these sapucaya nuts don’t quite satisfy me. 
I’d like a little fish or flesh meat along with them.” 

“ It’s neither,” rejoined the Indian. “ Something as good, 
though. It’s fowl! I’ve found an arara’s nest.” 

“ O, a macaw! But where is the bird ? You have n’t 
caught it yet ? ” 

“Have n’t I?” responded the Mundurucu, plunging his 
arm elbow-deep into a cavity in the tree-trunk; and drag¬ 
ging forth a half-fledged bird, nearly as big as a chicken. 
“ Ah, a nest! young ones! Fat as butter too! ” 

“All right. We must take them back with us. Out 
friends in the sapucaya are hungry as we, and will be right 
glad to see such an addition to the larder.” 

But Richard’s reply was unheard; for, from the moment 
that the Mundurucu had pulled the young macaw out of 
its nest, the creature set up such a screaming and flopping 
of its half-fledged wings, as to fill all the woods around. 
The discordant ululation was taken up and repeated by a 
companion within the cavity; and then, to the astonishment 
of the twain, half a score of similar screaming voices were 
heard issuing from different places higher up in the tree, 
where it was evident there were several other cavities, each 
containing a nest full of young araras. 

“ A regular breeding-place, a macaw-cot,” cried Richard, 
laughing as he spoke. “ We ’ll get squabs enough to keep 
us all for a week! ” 

The words had scarce passed his lips, when a loud clangor 
reverberated upon the air. It was a confused mixture of 
noises, — a screaming and chattering, — that bore some re¬ 
semblance to the human voice; as if half a score of Punches 
were’ quarrelling with as many Judys at the same time. 
The sounds, when first heard, were at some distance; but 


70 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


before twenty could have been counted, they were uttered 
close to the ears of the Mundurucu, who was highest up* 
while the sun became partially obscured by the outspread 
wings of a score of great birds, hovering in hurried flight 
around the top of the seringa. There was no mystery 
about the matter. The new-comers were the parents 
the young macaws — the owners of the nests — returning 
from a search for provender for their pets, whose piercing 
cries had summoned them in all haste to their home. As 
yet, neither the Indian nor his young companion conceived 
any cause for alarm. Foolish indeed to be frightened by 
a flock of birds ! They were not allowed to indulge long 
in this comfortable equanimity; for, almost on the moment 
of their arrival above the tree, the united parentage of araras 
plunged down among the branches, and, with wing, beak, 
and talons, began an instant and simultaneous attack upon 
the intruders. The Indian was the first to receive their onset. 
Made in such a united and irresistible manner, it had the 
effect of causing him to let go the chick, which fell with a 
plunge into the water below. In its descent it was accompa¬ 
nied by half a dozen of the other birds, — its own parents, 
perhaps, and their more immediate friends, — and these, for 
the first time espying a second enemy farther down, directed 
their attack upon him. The force of the assailants was thus 
divided ; the larger number continued their onslaught upon 
the Indian, though the young Paraense at the same time 
found his hands quite full enough in defending himself, con¬ 
sidering that he carried nothing in the shape of a weapon, 
and that his body, like that of his comrade, was altogether 
unprotected by vestments. To be sure, the Mundurucu was 
armed with a sharp knife, which he had brought along with 
him in his girdle; but this was of very little use against his 
winged enemies; and although he succeeded in striking down 
one or two of them, it was done rather by a blow of the fist 
than by the blade. 


A CONTEST WITH CUDGELS. 


71 


Ill a dozen seconds both had received almost as many 
scratches from the beaks and talons of the birds, which still 
continued the combat with a fury that showed no signs of re¬ 
laxation or abatement. The Paraense did not stay either to 
take counsel or imitate the example of his more sage compan¬ 
ion, but, hastily bending down upon the limb whereon he had 
been maintaining the unequal contest, he plunged headfore¬ 
most into the water. Of course a “ header ” from such a 
height carried him under the surface; and his assailants, for 
the moment missing him, flew back into the tree-top, and 
joined in the assault on Munday. The latter, who had by this 
become rather sick of the contest, thinking of no better plan, 
followed his comrade’s example. Hastily he flung himself 
into the flood, and, first diving below the surface, came up 
beside the Paraense, and the two swam away side by side in 
silence, each leaving behind him a tiny string of red; for the 
blood was flowing freely from the scratches received in their 
strange encounter. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A CONTEST WITH CUDGELS. 

O UR discomfited adventurers did not swim far from the 
seringa, for the birds did not follow them. Satisfied 
with seeing the burglars fairly beyond the boundaries of their 
domicile, the tenants of the tree returned to their nests, as if 
to ascertain what amount of damage had been done. In a 
short time the commotion had almost subsided, though there 
was heard an occasional scream, — the wail of the bereaved 
parents ; for the helpless squab, after struggling awhile on the 
surface of the water, had gone suddenly out of sight Taere 





, ( 

72 AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 

was no danger, therefore, of further molestation from theii 
late assailants, so long as they should be left in quiet posses¬ 
sion of the seringa, and therefore there was no further neces¬ 
sity for the two swimmers to retreat. A new intention had 
shaped itself in Munday’s mind by this time, and he expressed 
his determination to return, to the surprise of the youth, who 
asked his purpose. 

“ Partly the purpose for which we first climbed it, and 
partly,” added he, with an angry roll of his almond-shaped 
eyes, “ to obtain revenge. A Mundurucu is not to be bled 
in this fashion, even by birds, without drawing blood in return. 
I don’t go out from this igarcipe till I’ve killed every arara, 
old as well as young, in that accursed tree, or chased the 
last of them out of it. Follow, and I’ll show you how.” 

The Indian turned his face towards the thicket of tree-tops 
forming one side of the water-arcade, and with a stroke or 
two brought himself within reach of some hanging parasites, 
and climbed up, bidding Richard follow. Once more they 
were shut in among the tops of what appeared to be a gigan¬ 
tic mimosa. “ It will do,” muttered the Mundurucu drawing 
his knife and cutting a stout branch, which he soon converted 
into a cudgel of about two feet in length. This he handed 
to his companion, and then, selecting a second branch of still 
stouter proportions, fashioned a similar club for himself. 

“ Now,” said he, after having pruned the sticks to his sat¬ 
isfaction, “we’re both armed, and ready to give battle to the 
araras, with a better chance of coming off victorious. Let 
us lose no time. We have other work to occupy us, and 
your friends will be impatient for our return.” Saying this, 
he let himself down into the water, and turned towards the 
seringa. His protege made no protest, but followed instantly 
after. Tightly clutching their cudgels, both reascended the 
seringa, and renewed the battle with the birds. The num¬ 
bers were even more unequal than before ; but this time tin 
advantage was on the side of the. intruders. 


A CONTEST WITH CUDGELS. 


73 


Str.king ith their clubs of heavy acacia-wood. the birds 
fell at every blow, until not one arara fluttered among the fo 



liage. Most of these had 
fallen wounded upon the 
water; a few only, seeing 
certain destruction before 
them, took flight into the far 
recesses of the flooded for¬ 
est. The Mundurucu, true 
to his promise, did not leave 
a living bird upon the tree. 

One after another, he hauled the half-fledged chicks from their 
nests ; one after another, twisted their necks ; and then, tyin« 
their legs together with a sipo, he separated the bunch into 
two equally-balanced parts, hanging it over a limb of the tree. 
u They can stay there till we come back, which will be soon 

4 , 




74 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


And now let us accomplish the purpose for which we ca^a 
nere! ” Laying aside the club that had made such havoc 
among the macaws, he drew the knife from his girdle. Se¬ 
lecting a spot on one of the larger limbs of the seringa, he 
made an incision in the bark, from which the milky juice 
immediately flowed. 

He had made provision against any loss of the precious 
fluid in the shape of a pair of huge monkey-pots, taken from 
a sapucaya while on the way, and which had been all the 
while lying in their place of deposit in a network of parasites. 
One of these he gave Richard, to hold under the tap while 
Ae made a second incision upon a longer limb of the seringa. 
Both nutshells were quickly filled with the glutinous juice, 
which soon began to thicken and coagulate like rich cream. 
The lids were restored to their places, and tied on with si- 
pos, and then a large quantity of this natural cordage was 
collected and made up into a portable shape. This accom¬ 
plished, the Mundurucu signified his intention of returning 
to the castaways; and, after apportioning part of the spoil 
to his companion, set out on the way they had come. The 
young Paraense swam close in his wake, and in ten minutes 
they had retraversed the igarape, and saw before them the 
bright sun gilding the Gapo at its embouchure, that appeared 
like the mouth of some subterraneous cavern. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

CHASED BY A JACARE'. 

A FEW more strokes would have carried the swimmers 
clear of the water arcade. Richard was already con 
gralulating himself on the prospect of escaping from t!ie 



CHASED BY A JACARE. 


75 


gloomy shadow, when all at once his companion started, raised 
his head high above the surface, and gazed backward along 
the dark arcade. As he did so, an exclamation escaped him, 
which only could be one of alarm. 

“A monster!” cried the Mundurucu. 

“ A monster! What sort ? where ? ” 

“ Yonder, — just by the edge of the igarape,— close in to 
the trees, — his body half hid under the hanging branches.” 

“ I see something like the trunk of a dead tree, afloat upon 
the water. A monster you say, Munday? What do you 
make it out to be ? ” 

“ The body of a big reptile, — big enough to swallow ua 
both. It’s the Jacare-uassu. I heard its plunge. Did not 
you?” 

“ I heard nothing like a plunge, except that made by our¬ 
selves in swimming.” 

“ No matter. There was such a noise but a moment ago. 
See! the monster is again in motion. He is after us! ” 

The dark body Richard had taken for the drifting trunk of 
a tree was now in motion, and evidently making direct for 
himself and his companion. The waves, undulating horizon¬ 
tally behind it, proclaimed the strokes of its strong, vertically 
flattened tail, by which it was propelled through the water. 

« The jacare-uassu ! ” once more exclaimed the Mundurucu, 
signifying that the reptile was the great alligator of the Amazon. 

It was one of the largest size, its body showing full seven 
yards above the water, while its projecting jaws, occasionally 
opened in menace or for breath, appeared of sufficient extent 
to swallow either of the swimmers. 

It was idle for them to think of escaping through the water. 
At ease as they both were in this element, they would have 
proved but clumsy competitors with a cayman, especially one 
of such strength and natatory skill as belong to the huge rep- 
tile in pursuit of them. Such a swimming-match was no* 
to be thought of, and neither entertained the idea of it. 


76 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 




“ We must take to the trees! ” cried the Indian, convinced 
that the alligator was after them. The Great Spirit is good 
to make them grow so near. It’s the only chance we have 
for saving our lives. To the trees, young master, — to the 
trees! ” 

As he spoke, the Mundurucu faced towards the forest; 
and, with quick, energetic strokes, they glided under the 
hanging branches. Most nimbly they climbed the nearest, 
and, once lodged upon a limb, were safe; and on one of the 
lowest they “ squatted,” to await the approach of the jacare. 
In about three seconds the huge saurian came up, pausing 
as it approached the spot where the two intended victims 
had ascended out of its reach. It seemed more than sur¬ 
prised, — in fact, supremely astonished; and for some mo¬ 
ments lay tranquil, as if paralyzed by its disappointment. 
This quietude, however, was of short duration ; for soon 
after, as if conscious of having been tricked, it commenced 
quartering the water in short diagonal lines, which every 
instant was lashed into foam by a stroke of its powerful 
tail. 

“ Let us be grateful to the Great Spirit! ” said the In¬ 
dian, looking down from his perch upon the tree. “ We may 
well thank him for affording us a safe refuge here. It’s 
the jacare-uassu, as I said. The monster is hungry, because 
it’s the time of flood, and he can’t get food so easily. The 
fish upon which he feeds are scattered through the Gapo, and 
he can only catch them by a rare chance. Besides, he has 
tasted our blood. Did you not see him sup at it as he 
came up the igarape ? He’s mad now, and won’t be satis¬ 
fied till he obtains a victim, — a man if he can, for I can 
tell by his looks he’s a man-eater.” 

“ A man-eater ! What mean you by that ? ” 

“ Only that this jacare has eaten men, oi women aa 
likely.” 

“ But how can you tell that?” 


A SAURIAN DIGRESSION 


77 


“ Thus, young master. His bigness tells me of his great 
age. He has lived long, and in his time visited many 
places. But what makes me suspect him to be a mam-eater 
is the eagerness with which he pursued us, and the disap* 
pointment he shows at not getting hold of us. Look at 
him now! ” 

Certainly there was something peculiar both in the ap¬ 
pearance and movements of the jacare. Young Trevannion 
had never seen such a monster before, though alligators were 
plenteous around Para, and were no rare sight to him. 
This one, however, was larger than any he had ever seen, 
more gaunt or skeleton-like in frame, with a more disgusting 
leer in its deep-sunken eyes, and altogether more unearthly 
in its aspect. The sight of the hidden saurian went far to 
convince him that there was some truth in the stories of which 
he had hitherto been sceptical. After all, the Gapo might 
contain creatures fairly entitled to the appellation of “ mon¬ 
sters ” 


CHAPTER XXY. 

A SAURIAN DIGRESSION. 

j T would be difficult to conceive a more hideous monster 
than this upon which Richard Trevannion and his com¬ 
rade gazed. In fact, there is no form in nature — scarce 
even in the imagination — more unpleasing to the eye than 
that of the lizard, the serpent’s shape not excepted. The 
sight of the latter may produce a sensation disagreeable and 
akin to fear; but the curving and graceful configuration, 
either at rest or in motion, and the smooth, shining skin, 
often brilliantly colored in beautiful patterns, tend to prevent 
it from approaching the bounds of horror. With the saurian 



78 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


V " * 

shape it is different. In it we behold the type of the hoi' 
rible, without anything to relieve the unpleasant impression 
The positive, though distant, resemblance to the human form 
itself, instead of making the creature more seemly, only in¬ 
tensifies the feeling of dread with which we behold it. The 
most beautiful coloring of the skin, and the gentlest habits, 
are alike inefficacious to remove that feeling. You may 
look upon the tree-lizard, clothed in a livery of the most 
vivid green; the Anolidce , in the bright blue of turquoise, in 
lemon and orange-? you may gaze on the chameleon when it 
assumes its most brilliant hues, — but not without an instinc¬ 
tive sense of repugnance. True, there are those who deny 
this, who profess not to feel it, and who can fondle such pets 
in their hands, or permit them to play around their necks 
and over their bosoms. This, however, is due to habit, and 
long, familiar acquaintance. . 

Since this is so with the smaller species of the lizard tribe, 
even with those of gay hues and harmless habits, what must 
it be with those huge saurians that constitute the family of 
the Crocodilidce , all of which, in form, color, habits, and char¬ 
acter, approach the very extreme of hideousness. Of these 
gigantic reptiles there is a far greater variety of species than 
is generally believed, — greater than is known even to natu¬ 
ralists. "Until lately, some three or four distinct kinds, in¬ 
habiting Asia, Africa, and America, were all that were sup¬ 
posed to exist. Recent exploration reveals a very different 
condition, and has added many new members to the family 
of the Crocodilidce. 

It would be safe to hazard a conjecture, that, when the 
world of nature becomes better known, the number of spe¬ 
cies of these ugly amphibia, under the various names of 
gavials, crocodiles, caymans, and alligators, all brothers or 
first-cousins, will amount to two score. It is the very close 
resemblance in appearance and general habits that has hith¬ 
erto hindered these different kinds from beirg distinguished 


A SAURIAN DIGRESSION. 


79 


Their species are many; and, if you follow the naturalists 
of the anatomic school, so too are the genera; for it pleases 
these sapient theorists to found a genus on almost any 
species, — thus confounding and rendering more difficult the 
study it is their design to simplify. In the case of the Croco - 
dilidce such subdivision is absolutely absurd; and a single 
genus — certainly two at the most — would suffice for all 
purposes, practical or theoretical. The habits of the whole 
family — gavials and alligators, crocodiles, caymans, and 
jacares — are so much alike, that it seems a cruelty to 
separate them. It is true the different species attain to 
very different sizes; some, as the curua , are scarce two 
feet in length, while the big brothers of the family, among 
the gavials, crocodiles, and alligators, are often ten times as 
long. 

It is impossible to say how many species of Crocodilidce 
inhabit the waters of the South American continent. There 
are three in the Amazon alone; but it is quite probable that 
in some of its more remote tributaries there exist other dis¬ 
tinct species, since the three above mentioned do not all 
dwell in the same portion of this mighty stream. The Ama¬ 
zonian Indians speak of many more species, and believe in 
their existence. No doubt the Indians are right. 

In the other systems of South American waters, as those 
of the La Plata, the Orinoco, and the Magdalena, species 
exist that are not known to the Amazon. Even in the iso¬ 
lated water deposits of Lake Valencia Humboldt discovered 
the bava, a curious little crocodile not noted elsewhere. The 
three Amazonian reptiles, though having a strong resemblance 
in general aspect, are quite distinct as regards the species. 
In the curious and useful dialect of that region, understood 
alike by Indians and Portuguese, they are all called “ Jaca¬ 
res,” though they are specifically distinguished as the Jacare- 
uassu the Jacare-tinga , and the Jacare-curua. Of the first 
kind was that which had pursued the two swimmers, and it 


80 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


was one of the largest of its species, full twenty-five feet froiB 
the point of its bony snout to the tip of its serrated tail. No 
wonder they got out of its way ! 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

TREED BY AN ALLIGATOR. 

I T^OR a time the two refugees were without fear or care, 
_ They knew they were out of reach, and, so long as they 
kept to their perch, were in no danger. Had it been a jag¬ 
uar instead of a jacare, it would have been another thing; 
but the amphibious animal could not’ crawl up the trunk 
of a tree, nor yet ascend by the hanging limbs or llianas. 
Their only feeling was that of chagrin at being stopped on 
their way back to their companions in the sapucaya, know¬ 
ing that their return would be impatiently expected. They 
could by shouting have made themselves heard, but not with 
sufficient distinctness to be understood. The matted tree- 
tops intervening would have prevented this. They thought 
it better to be silent, lest their shouts might cause alarm. 
Richard hoped that the alligator would soon glide back to the 
haunt whence it had sallied, and leave them at liberty to con¬ 
tinue their journey, but the Mundurucu was not so sanguine. 

There was something in the behavior of the jacard he did 
not like, especially when he saw it quartering the water as if in 
search of the creatures that had disappeared so mysteriously. 

“ Surely it won’t lie in w’ait for us ?” was the first question 
put by his companion. “ You don’t think it will ? ” 

“I do, young master, I do. That is just what troubles the 
Mundurucu. He may keep us here for hours, — perhaps till 
the sun goes down.” 



TREED BY AN ALLIGATOR. 


81 


M That would be anything but pleasant, — perhaps more so 
to those who are waiting for us than to ourselves. What can 
we do ? ” 

“Nothing at present. We must have patience, master.” 

“ For my part, I shall try,” replied the Paraense; “ but it’s 
very provoking to be besieged in this fashion, — separated by 
only a few hundred yards from one’s friends, and yet unable 
to rejoin or communicate with them.” 

“ Ah! I wish the Curupira had him. I fear the brute is 
going to prove troublesome. The Mundurucii can read evil 
in his eye. Look! he has come to a stand. He sees us! 
No knowing now when he will grow tired of our company.” 

“ But has it sense enough for that ? ” 

“ Sense! Ah! cunning, master may call it, when he talks 
of the jacare. Surely, young master, you know that, — you 
who are a Paraense born and bred? You must know that 
these reptiles will lie in wait for a whole week by a bathing- 
place, watching for a victim, — some helpless child, or even a 
grown man, who has been drinking too much cashaca. Ah 
yes! many’s the man the jacard has closed his deadly jaws 
upon.” 

“ Well, I hope this one won’t have that opportunity with 
us. We must n’t give it.” 

“ Not if we can help it,” rejoined the Indian. “ But we 
must be quiet, young master, if we expect to get out of this 
fix in any reasonable time. The jacard has sharp ears, small 
though they look. He can hear every word we are saying; 
ay, and if one were to judge by the leer in his ugly eye, he 
understands us.” t 

“ At all events, it appears to be listening.” 

So the conversation sank to silence, broken only by an oc 
casional whisper, and no gesture even made communication, 
for they saw the leering look of the reptile fixed steadily up 
on them. Almost two hours passed in this tantalizing and 
irksome fashion. 


82 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


The sun had now crossed the meridiai^line, and was de¬ 
clining westward. The jacard had not stirred from the spot 
It lay like a log upon the water, its lurid eyes alone proclaim¬ 
ing its animation. For more than an hour it had made no 
visible movement, and their situation was becoming insup¬ 
portable. 

“ But what can we do ? ” asked Richard, despairingly. 

“ We must try to travel through the tree-tops, and get to 
the other side. If we can steal out of his sight and hearing, 
all will be well. The Mundurucu is angry with himself; he 
did n’t think of this before. He was fool enough to hope 
the jacare would get tired first. He might have known bet¬ 
ter, since the beast has tasted blood. That or hunger makes 
him such a stanch sentinel. Come, young master! ” added 
the Indian, rising from his seat, and laying hold of a branch. 
"‘We must make a journey through the tree-tops. Not a 
word, — not a broken bough if you can help it. Keep close 
after me; watch what I do, and do you exactly the same.” 

“ All right, Munday,” muttered the Paraense. “ Lead on, 
old boy! I ’ll do my best to follow you.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

AN AQUA-ARBOREAL JOURNEY. 

I T may appear strange, incredible, absurd, that such a 
journey, for however short a distance, should have been 
attempted by human beings. No doubt to many it will ap¬ 
pear so, and be set down as ludicrously improbable. Twenty 
minutes passed in the shadowy gloom of a South American 
forest would strip the idea of travelling among the tree-tops of 
much of its improbability. In many places such a feat is quite 



AN AQUA-ARBOREAL JOURNEY. 


83 


possible, and comparatively easy, — perhaps not so “easy as 
rolling off a log,” but almost as much so as climbing to the 
top of one. In the great montana of the Amazon there are 
stretches of forest, miles in extent, where the trees are so 
matted and interlaced as to form one continuous “arbor,” 
each united to its immediate neighbors by natural stays and 
cables, to which the meshes formed by the rigging of a ship 
are as an open network in comparison. In the midst of this 
magnificent luxuriance of vegetable life, there are birds, 
Deasts, and insects that never set foot upon the ground; — 
birds in a vast variety of genera and species; beasts — I mean 
quadrupeds — of many different kinds; insects of countless 
orders; quadrumana that never touched terra jirma with any 
of their four hands; and, I had almost added, man. He, 
too, if not exclusively confining himself to the tops of 
these forest-trees, may make them habitually his home, as 
shall be seen in the sequel. 

It was no great feat, then, for the Mundurucii and his 
acolyte to make a short excursion across the “spray” of the 
forest, since this is the very timber that is so tied together. 
There was even less of danger than in a tract of w T oods 
growing upon the highlands or “ Campos.” A fall into tho 
Gapo could only entail a ducking, with a brief interruption 
of the journey. 

It does not follow that their progress must be either swift 
or direct. That would depend upon the character of the 
trees and their parasites, — whether the former grew close 
together, and whether the latter were numerous and luxuri¬ 
ant, or of scanty growth. To all appearance, Nature in that 
spot had been beneficent, and poured forth her vegetable 
treasures profusely. 

The Indian, glancing through the branches, believed there 
would be no more difficulty in getting to the other side of 
tho belt of timber that separated them from the open water, 
than in traversing a thicket of similar extent. With this 


84 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


confidence he set forth, followed by his less experienced 
companion. Both began and confirmed their monkey-like 
march in the most profound silence. 

They knew that it was possible and easy for the alligator 
to bear them company; for although they were forced to 
pass through an almost impervious thicket, down on the 
water it was altogether different. There was nothing to 
impede the progress of the saurian, huge as it was, except 
the trunks of the trees. 

To tell the truth, it was a toilsome trip, and both the 
travellers were weary of it long before coming within sight 
of the open water on the opposite side. Often were they 
compelled to carry their own weight on the strength of their 
arms, by hoisting themselves from tree to tree. Many a 
detour had they to make, sometimes on account of the im¬ 
penetrable network of creepers, and sometimes because of 
open water, that, in pools, interrupted their route. 

The distance to be traversed was not over two hundred 
yards. At starting they knew not how far, but it proved 
about this measure. If they had made their calculation 
iccording to time, they might have estimated it at half a 
score of miles. They were a good hour and a half on the 
journey; but the delay, with all its kindred regrets, was 
forgotten, when they saw the open water before them, and 
soon after found themselves on the selvage of the submerged 
forest. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A TIMELY WARNING. 


N arriving among the outside trees, our explorers, 
homeward bound, saw something to cheer them,— 



A TIMELY WARNING. 


85 


Ajmething besides the bright sun and the shining waters of 
the Gapo. It was the sapucaya, still bearing its stupendous 
fruit, the friends they had left behind them. The Paraense 
appeared to be counting them, as if to make sure that all 
were still safe upon the tree. Perhaps he w T as only intent 
on the discovery of one, or, having discovered, was feeding 
his eyes upon her form, slender and graceful in the distance. 
He w 7 ould have shouted to apprise them of the safety of 
himself and companion, had not a sign from the latter, ac¬ 
companied by a few muttered words, counselled him to hold 
his peace. 

“ Why not, Munday ? ” 

“Not a word, young master. We are not yet out of the 
woods ; the jacare may hear us.” 

“We left it far behind in the igarape.” 

“ Ah, true ! Who knows where he may be now ? Not 
the Mundurucu. The monster may have followed us. Who 
knows ? He may be at this moment within twenty yards, 
waiting for us to come back into the water.” 

As he spoke, the Indian looked anxiously behind him. 
He could discover no cause of alarm. All was still unde: 
the shadow of the trees. Not even a ripple could be seen 
upon the sombre surface of the water. 

“ I think we’ve given it the slip,” remarked Richard. 

“ It looks so,” responded the Indian. “ The Mundurucit 
hears no sound, sees no sign. ^The jacar4 should still be 
in the igarape.” 

“Why should we delay any longer? Several hours have 
elapsed since we left the sapucaya. My uncle and every¬ 
body else will be out of all patience. They will be dis¬ 
tracted with sheer anxiety. They look as if they were. 
Though we have a good view of them, I don’t suppose they 
see us. If they did, they would be hailing us, that ’s cer¬ 
tain. Let us take to the water, and rejoin them.” 

The Mundurueu. after looking once more to the rear, and 


86 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


listening for a few moments, replied, “ I think we may ven*- 
ture.” 

This was the cue for young Trevannion, and, lowering 
himself from the limb on which he was supported, the two 
almost at the same instant committed themselves to the flood. 
Scarce had they touched the water when their ears were 
assailed by a shout that came pealing across the Gapo. 
It neither startled nor surprised them, for they could not 
fail to comprehend its meaning. It was a cheer sent forth 
from the sapucaya, announcing their reappearance to the 
eyes of their anxious companions. Stimulated by the joy¬ 
ous tones, the two swimmers struck boldly out into the open 
water. 

Richard no longer thought of looking behind him. In a 
hasty glance directed towards the sapucaya, as he rose after 
his first plunge upon the water, he had seen something to 
lure hinfr on, at the same time absorbing all his reflections, 
lie had seen a young girl, standing erect within the fork of 
the tree, throw up her arms as if actuated by some sudden 
transport of joy. What could have caused it but the sight 
of him ? 

The mind of the Mundurucu was far differently employed. 
His thoughts were retrospective, not prospective. So, too, 
were his glances. Instead of looking forward to inquire 
what was going on among the branches of the sapucaya, he 
carried his beardless chin upon his shoulder, keeping his 
eyes and ears keenly intent to any sight or sound that might 
appear suspicious behind him. His caution, as was soon 
nroved, was neither unnatural nor superfluous, nor yet the 
counsel given to his companion to swim as if some swift and 
terrible pursuer were after him; for although the Indian 
spoke from mere conjecture, his words were but too true. 

The swimmers had traversed about half the space of open 
water that lay between the sapucaya and the submerged 
forest. The Indian had purposely permitted himself to fall 


A TIMELY WARNING. 


8? 


mio the wake of his companion, in order that his backward 
view might be unobstructed. So far, no alligator showed 
itself behind them, no enemy of any kind; and in proportion 
as his confidence increased, he relaxed his vigilance. It 
seemed certain the jacare had given up the chase. It could 
not have marked their movements among the tree-tops, and 
in all likelihood the monster was still keeping guard near 
the opening of the igar&pe. Too happy to arrive at this con¬ 
clusion, the Indian ceased to think of a pursuit, and, after 
making an effort, overtook the young Paraense, the two 
continuing to swim abreast. As there no longer appeared 
any reason for extraordinary speed, the swimmers simulta¬ 
neously suspended the violent exertions they had been hith¬ 
erto making, and with relaxed stroke kept on towards the 
sapucaya. 

It was fortunate for both that other eyes than their own 
were turned upon that stretch of open water. Had it not 
been so, the silent swimmer, far swifter than they, coming 
rapidly up in their rear, might have overtaken them long 
before reaching the tree. The shout sent forth from the 
sapucaya, in which every voice bore a part, warned them 
of some dread danger threatening near. But for late ex¬ 
perience, they might not have known on which side to look 
for it; but, guided by this, they instinctively looked back. 
The jacare, close behind, was coming on as fast as his pow¬ 
erful tail, rapidly oscillating from side to side, could propel 
him. It was fortunate for the two swimmers they had 
heard that warning cry in time. A score of seconds made 
all the difference in their favor, all the difference between 
life and death. It was their destiny to live, and not die 
then in the jaws of the jacare. Before the ugly reptile, mak 
ing all the speed in its power, could come up with either 
of them, both, assisted by willing hands, had climbed beyond 
its reach, and could look upon it without fear from among 
the branches of the sapucaya. • 


88 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

IMPROVISED SWIMMING-BELTS. 

T HE huge saurian swam on to the tree, — to the vert 
spot where Richard and the Mundurucii liad climbed 
up, at the forking of the stem. On perceiving that its prey 
had for a second time got clear, its fury seemed to break all 
bounds. It lashed the water with its tail, closed its jaws 
with a loud clattering, and gave utterance to a series of 
sounds, that could only be compared to a cross between the 
bellowing of a bull and the grunting of a hog. 

Out in the open light of the sun, and swimming conspicu¬ 
ously upon the surface of the water, a good view of the rep¬ 
tile could now be obtained; but this did not improve the opin¬ 
ion of it already formed by Richard. It looked, if possible, 
uglier than when seen in shadow; for in the light the fixed 
leer of its lurid eye, and the ghastly blood-colored inside of 
the jaws, at intervals opened, and showing a triple row of ter¬ 
rible teeth, were more conspicuous and disgusting. Its im¬ 
mense bulk made it still more formidable to look upon. Its 
body was full eight yards in length, and of proportionate 
thickness, — measuring around the middle not less than a 
fathom and a half; while the lozenge-like protuberances 
along its spine rose in pointed pyramids to the height of sev¬ 
eral inches. 

No wonder that little Rosa uttered a shriek of terror on 
first beholding it; no wonder that brave young Ralph trem¬ 
bled at the sight. Even Trevannion himself, with the negro 
and Tipperary Tom, regarded the reptile with fear. It was 
some time before they felt sure that it could not crawi up to 
them. It seemed for a time as if it meant to do so, rubbing 
its bony snout against the bark, and endeavoring to clasp the 
trunk with its short human-like arms. After several efforts 


IMPROVISED SWIMMING-BELTS. 


89 


to ascend, it apparently became satisfied that this feat was 
not to be performed, and reluctantly gave up the attempt; 
then, retreating a short distance, begata swimming in irregular 
circles around the tree, all the while keeping its eye fixed 
upon the branches. 

After a time, the castaways only bent their gaze upon the 
monster at intervals, when some new manoeuvre attracted 
their notice. There was no immediate danger to be dreaded 
from it; and although its proximity was anything but pleas¬ 
ant, there were other thoughts equally disagreeable, and more 
important, to occupy their time and attention. They could 
not remain all their lives in the sapucaya; and although they 
knew not what fortune awaited them in the forest beyond, 
they were all anxious to get there. 

Whether it was altogether a flooded forest, or whether 
there might not be some dry land in it, no one could tell. 
In the Mundurucu’s opinion it was the former: and in the 
face of this belief, there was not much hope of their finding 
a foot of dry land. In any case, the forest must be reached, 
and all were anxious to quit their quarters on the sapucaya, 
under the belief that they would find others more comfort¬ 
able. At all events, a change could not well be for the 
worse. 

Munday had promised them the means of transport, but 
how this was to be provided none of them as yet knew. The 
time, however, had arrived for him to declare his intentions, 
and this he proceeded to do ; not in words, but by deeds that 
soon made manifest his design. 

It will be remembered that, after killing the macaws, he 
had tapped the seringa, and “ drawn ” two cups full of the 
sap, — that he had bottled it up in the pots, carefully closing 
the lids against leakage. It will also be remembered, that 
he had provided himself with a quantity of creepers, which 
he had folded into a portable bundle. These were of a pecu¬ 
liar sort, — the true sipos of the South American forest, 


SKI 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


which serve for all purposes of cordage, ropes ready made by 
the hand of Nature. On parting from the seringa, he had 
brought these articles along with him, his companion carry¬ 
ing a share of the load. Though chased by the jacare, and 
close run too, neither had abandoned his bundle, — tied by 
sipos around the neck, — and both the bottled caoutchouc 
and the cordage were now in the sapucaya. What they were 
intended for no one could guess, until it pleased the Indian to 
reveal his secret; and this he at length did, by collecting a 
large number of nuts from the sapucaya, — Ralph and Rich¬ 
ard acting as his aids, — emptying them of their three-cor¬ 
nered kernels, restoring the lids, and then making them “ wa¬ 
ter-proof” by a coating of the caoutchouc. 

Soon all became acquainted with his plans, when they saw 
him bind the hollow shells into bunches, three or four in each, 
held together by sipos, and then with a stronger piece of the 
same parasite attach the bunches two and two together, leav¬ 
ing about three feet of the twisted sipos between. 

“ Swimming-belts! ” cried Ralph, now for the first time 
comprehending the scheme. Ralph was right. That was 
just what the Mundurucu had manufactured, — a set of 
swimming-belts . 


CHAPTER XXX. 

ALLIGATOR LORE. 

F OR an hour the castaways remained in the tree, chafing 
with impatience and chagrin that their awful enemy 
still kept his savage watch for them in the Gapo below, glid¬ 
ing lazily to and fro, but ever watching them with eager, evil 
eye. But there was no help for it; and by way of possessing 
their souls in more patience, and making time pass quicker. 



IMPROVISED SWIMMING-BELTS. 


91 


they fell to conversing on a subject appropriate to the occa¬ 
sion, for it was the jacard itself, or rather alligators in gen¬ 
eral. Most of the questions were put by Trevannion, while 
the answers were given by the Mundurucii, whose memory, 
age, and experience made him a comprehensive cyclopaedia 
of alligator lore. 

The Indian, according to his own account, was acquainted 
with five or six different kinds of jacare. They were not all 
found in one place, though he knew parts of the country 
where two or three kinds might be found dwelling in the 
same waters; as, for instance, the jacare-uassu (great alliga¬ 
tor), the same as was then besieging them, and which is some¬ 
times called the black jacare, might often be seen in the same 
pool with the jacare-tinga, or little alligator. Little jacar§ 
was not an appropriate name for this last species. It was 
four feet long when full grown, and he knew of others, as 
the jacare-curua, that never grew above two. These kinds 
frequented small creeks, and were less known than the oth¬ 
ers, as it was only in certain places they were found. The 
jacares were most abundant in the dry season. He did not 
suppose they were really more numerous, only that they were 
then collected together in the permanent lakes and pools. 
Besides, the rivers were then lower, and as there was less 
surface for them to spread over, they were more likely to be 
seen. As soon as the echente commenced, they forsook the 
channels of the rivers, as also the standing lakes, and wan¬ 
dered all over the Gapo. As there was then a thousand 
times the quantity of water, of course the creatures were 
more scattered, and less likely to be encountered. In the 
vasante he had seen half-dried lakes swarming with jacares, 
as many as there would be tadpoles in a frog-pond. At such 
times he had seen them crowded together, and had heard 
their scales rattling, as they jostled one another, at the dis¬ 
tance of half a mile or more. In the countries on the lower 
part of the Solimoes, where many of the inland lakes become 
J , r ' 



92 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 



dry during the vasante, many jacar^s at that season buried 
themselves in the mud, and went to sleep. They remained 
asleep, encased in dry, solid earth, till the flood once more 
softened the mud around them, when they came out again a3 
ugly as ever. He did n’t think that they followed this fash¬ 
ion everywhere; only where the lakes in which they chanced 
to be became dry, and they found their retreat to the river 
cut off. They made their nests on dry land, covering the 
eggs over with a great conical pile of rotten leaves and mud. 

The eggs of the jacare-uassu were as large as cocoa-nuts, and 
of an oval shape. They had a thick, rough shell, which made 
a loud noise when rubbed against any hard substance. If the 
female were near the nest, and you wished to find her, you 
had only to rub two of the eggs together, and she would come 
waddling towards you the moment she heard the noise. They 


fed mostly on fish, but that was because fish was plentiest, and 
most readily obtained. They would eat flesh or fowl, — any¬ 
thing that chanced in their way. Fling them a bone, and 
they would swallow it at a gulp, seizing it in their great jaws 
before it could reach the water, just as a dog would do. If 









IMPROVISED SWIMMING-BELTS. 


93 

a moisel got into tlieir mouth that would n’t readily go down, 
they would pitch it out, and catch it while in the air, so as 
to get it between their jaws in a more convenient manner. 

Sometimes they had terrific combats with the jaguars ; but 
these animals were wary about attacking the larger ones, and 
only preyed upon the young of these, or the jacare-tiugas. 
They themselves made war on every creature they could 
catch, and above all on the young turtles, thousands of which 
were every year devoured by them. They even devoured 
their own children, — that is, the old males did, whenever 
the mai (mother) was not in the way to protect them. They 
had an especial preference for dogs, — that is, as food, — and 
if they should hear a dog barking in the forest, they would go 
a long way over Jand to get hold of him. They lie in wait 
for fish, sometimes hiding themselves in the weeds and grass 
till the latter come near. They seized them, if convenient, 
between their jaws, or killed them with a stroke of the tail, 
making a great commotion in the water. The fish got con¬ 
fused with fright, and did n’t know which way to swim out 
of the reptile’s reach. Along with their other food they ate 
stones, for he had often found stones in their stomach. The 
Indian said it was done that the weight might enable them 
to go under the water more easily. 

The Capilearas were large animals that furnished many a 
meal to the jacares; although the quadrupeds could swim 
very fast, they were no match for the alligator, who can make 
head with rapidity against the strongest current. If they 
could only turn short, they would be far more dangerous 
than they are ; but their neck was stiff, and it took them a 
long while to get round, which was to their enemies’ advan¬ 
tage. Sometimes they made journeys upon land. General¬ 
ly they travelled very slowly, but they could go much faster 
when attacked, or pursuing their prey. Their tail was to be 
especially dreaded. With a blow of that they could knock 
the breath out of a man’s body, or break his leg bone. They 


94 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


liked to bask in the sun, lying along the sand-banks by the 
edge of the river, several of them together, with their tails 
laid one on the other. They would remain motionless foi 
hours, as if asleep, but all the while with their mouths wide 
open. Some said that they did this to entrap the flies and 
insects that alighted upon their tongue and teeth, but he (the 
Mundurucii) did n’t believe it, because no quantity of flies 
would fill the stomach of the great jacare. While lying thus, 
or even at rest upon the water, birds often perched upon 
their backs and heads, — cranes, ibises, and other kinds. 
They even walked about over their bodies without seeming 
to disturb them. In that way the jacares could not get at 
them, if they wished it ever so much. 

There were some jacares more to be dreaded than others. 
These were the man-eaters, such as had once tasted human 
flesh. There were many of them, — too many, — since not 
a year passed without several people falling victims to the 
voracity of these reptiles. People were used to seeing them 
every day, and grew careless. The jacares lay in wait in 
the bathing-places close to villages and houses, and stole 
upon the bathers that had ventured into deep water. Wom¬ 
en, going to fetch water, and children, were especially sub¬ 
ject to their attack. He had known men, who had gone 
into the water in a state of intoxication, killed and devoured 
by the jacare, with scores of people looking helplessly on 
from the bank, not twenty yards away. When an event 
of this kind happened, the people armed themselves en masse , 
got into their montarias (canoes), gave chase, and usually 
killed the reptile. At other times it was left unmolested 
for months, and allowed to lie in wait for a victim. 

The brute was muy ladim (very cunning). That was 
evident enough to his listeners. They had only to look 
down into the water, and watch the movements of the mon¬ 
ster there. Notwithstanding its ferocity, it was at bottom 
a great coward, but it knew well when it was master of 


A RIDE UPON A REPTILE. 


95 


the situation. The one under the sapucaya believed itself 
to be in that position. It might be mistaken. If it did 
not very soon take its departure, he, the Mundurucii, should 
make trial of its courage, and then would be seen who was 
master. Big as it was, it would not be so difficult to sub¬ 
due for one who knew how. The jacard was not easily 
killed, for it would not die outright till it was cut to pieces. 
But it could be rendered harmless. Neither bullet nor ar¬ 
row would penetrate its body, but there were places where 
its life could be reached, — the throat, the eyes, and the 
hollow places just behind the eyes, in front of the shoulders. 
If stabbed in any of these tender places, it must go under. 
He knew a plan better than that; and if the brute did not 
soon raise the siege, he would* put it in practice. He was 
getting to be an old man. Twenty summers ago he would 
not have put up with such insolence from an alligator. He 
was not decrepit yet. If the jacare consulted its own safety, 
it would do well to look out. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


A RIDE UPON A REPTILE. 


FTER thus concluding his long lecture upon alligators, 



the Indian grew restless, and fidgeted from side to 
side. It was plain to all, that the presence of the jacare 
was provoking him to fast-culminating excitement. As 
another hour passed, and the monster showed no signs of 
retiring, his excitement grew to anger so intense, as to be 
no longer withheld from seeking relief in action. So the 
Mundurucu hastily uprose, flinging aside the swimming-belts 
hitherto held in his hands. Everything was put by except 



$6 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


his knife, and this, drawn from his tanga , was now held 
tightly in his grasp. 

“ What mean you, Munday ? ” inquired Trevannion, ob¬ 
serving with some anxiety the actions of the Indian. “ Sure¬ 
ly you are not going to attack the monster? With such a 
poor weapon you would have no chance, even supposing you 
could get within striking distance before being swallowed up. 
Don’t think of such a thing! ” 

“ Not with this weapon, patron,” replied the Indian, hold¬ 
ing up the knife ; “ though even with it the Mundurucii 
would not fear to fight the jacare, and kill him, too. Then 
the brute would go to the bottom of the Gapo, taking me 
along. I don’t want a ducking like that, to say nothing of 
the chances of being drowned. I must settle the account 
on the surface.” 

“ My brave fellow, don’t be imprudent! It is too great 
a risk. Let us stay here till morning. Night will bring a 
change, and the reptile will go off.” 

“ Patron ! the Mundurucii thinks differently. That jacard 
is a man-eater, strayed from some of the villages, perhaps 
Coary, that we have lately left. It has tasted man’s blood, 
— even ours, that of your son, your own. It sees men in 
the tree. It will not retire till it has gratified its ravenous 
desires. We may stay in this tree till we starve, and from 
feebleness drop, one by one, from the branches.” 

“ Let us try it for one night ? ” 

“No, patron,” responded the Indian, his eyes kindling 
with a revengeful fire, “ not for one hour. The Mundurucii 
was willing to obey you in what related to the duty for 
which you hired him. He is no longer a tapuyo The gala- 
tea is lost, the contract is at an end, and now he is free to 
do what he may please with his life. Patron! ” continued 
the old man, with an energy that resembled returning youth, 
“my tribe would spurn me from the malocca if I bore it 
any longer. Either I or the jacard must die! ” 





















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A. RIDE UPON A REPTILE. 


97 


Silenced by the singularity of the Indian's sentiment and 
speech, Trevannion forbore further opposition. No one 
knew exactly what his purpose was, though his attitude and 
actions led all to believe that he meant to attack the jacare. 
With his knife? No. He had negatived this question him¬ 
self. How then ? There appeared to be no other weapon 
within reach. But there was, and his companions soon saw 
there was, as they sat silently watching his movements. 
The knife was only used as the means of procuring that 
weapon, which soon made its appearance in the form of a 
macana, or club, cut from one of the llianas, — a bauhinia 
of heaviest wood, shaped something after the fashion of a 
“ life-preserver,” with a heavy knob of the creeper forming 
its head, and a shank about two feet long, tapering towards 
the handle. Armed with this weapon, and restoring the 
knife to his tanga, the Indian came down and glided out 
along the horizontal limb already known to our story. To 
attract the reptile thither was not difficult. His presence 
would have been a sufficient lure, but some broken twigs 
cast upon the water served to hasten its approach to the 
spot. In confidence the jacare came on, believing that by 
some imprudence, or misadventure, at least one of those it 
Had marked for its victims was about to drop into its hungry 
maw. One did drop, — not into its maw, or its jaws, but 
upon its back, close up to the swell of its shoulders. Look¬ 
ing down from the tree, his companions saw the Mundurucu 
astride upon the alligator, with one hand, the left, apparently 
inserted into the hollow socket of the reptile’s eye, the other 
raised aloft, grasping the macana , that threatened to descend 
upon the skull of the jacare. It did descend, — crack! — 
crash! — crackle! After that there was not much to re¬ 
cord. The Mundurucu was compelled to slide off his seat. 
The huge saurian, with its fractured skull, yielded to a 
simple physical law, turned over, showing its belly of yellow¬ 
ish white, — an aspect not a whit more lovely than that pre- 

6 G 


98 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


sented in its dark dorsal posterior. If not dead, thert could 
be no doubt that the jacare was no longer dangerous ; and 
as its conqueror returned to the tree, he was received with 
a storm of “ Vivas” to which Tipperary Tom added his en¬ 
thusiastic Irish “ Hoor-raa! ” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

TAKING TO THE WATER. 

T HE Mundurucu merited congratulation, and his compan¬ 
ions could not restrain their admiration and wonder. 
They knew that the alligator was only assailable by ordinary 
weapons — as gun, spear, or harpoon — in three places ; in 
the throat, unprotected, except by a thin, soft integument; 
in the hollow in front of the shoulders, and immediately be¬ 
hind the bony socket of the eyes ; and in the eyes them¬ 
selves, — the latter being the most vulnerable of all. Why 
had the Indian, armed with a knife, not chosen one of 
these three places to inflict a mortal cut or stab? 

“ Patron,” said the Indian, as soon as he had recovered 
his breath, “ you wonder why the Mundurucu took all that 
trouble for a macana, while he might have killed the jacard 
without it. True, the knife was weapon enough. Pa terra ! 
Yes. But it would not cause instant death. The rascal 
could dive with both eyes scooped out of their sockets, and 
live for hours afterwards. Ay, it could have carried me 
twenty miles through the Gapo, half the distance under wa¬ 
ter. Where would old Munday have been then ? Drowned 
and dead, long before the jacare itself. Ah, patron, a good 
knock on the hollow of its head is the best way to settle 
scores with a jacare.” 



TAKING TO THE WATE1J. 


And as if all scores had been now settled with this fellow, 
ihe huge saurian, to all appearance dead, passed unheeded out 
of sight, the current of the Gapo drifting it slowly away. 
They did not wait for its total disappearance, and while its 
hideous body, turned belly upward, with its human-like hands 
stiffly thrust above the surface, was yet in sight, they resumed 
their preparations for vacating a tenement of which all were 
heartily tired, with that hopeful expectancy which springs 
from a knowledge that the future cannot be worse than the 
present. Richard had reported many curious trees, some 
bearing fruits that appeared to be eatable, strung with llianas, 
here and there forming a network that made it easy to find 
comfort among their branches. If there had been nothing 
else to cheer them, the prospect of escaping from their irk¬ 
some attitudes was of itself sufficient; and influenced by this, 
tl ey eagerly prepared for departure. 

As almost everything had been already arranged for fer¬ 
rying the party, very little remained to be done. From the 
hermetically closed monkey-cups the Mundurucu had manu¬ 
factured five swimming-belts, — this number being all that 
was necessary, for he and the young Paraense could swim 
ten times the distance without any adventitious aid. The 
others had their share of empty shells meted out according 
to their weight and need of help. Rosa’s transport required 
particular attention. The others could make way them¬ 
selves, but Rosa was to be carried across under the safe con¬ 
duct of the Indian. 

So when every contingency had been provided for, one 
after another slipped down from the fork, and quietly de¬ 
parted from a tree that, however uncomfortable as a resi¬ 
dence, had yet provided them with a refuge in the hour of 
danger 


100 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A HALF-CHOKED SWIMMER. 

M UNDAY led ofl^ towing little Rosa after h m by $ 
sipo, one end fastened to his girdle, and the othei 
around her waist. Trevannion followed close behind, Ralph 
a little farther off, with Richard keeping abreast of his cousin 
and helping him along. Mozey swam next; Tipperary Tom, 
who was last to leave the tree, brought up the rear. The 
ouistiti had found a berth on the shoulders of young Ralph, 
who, buoyed up by a good supply of air-vessels, swam with 
his back above water. As for the macaw and coaita, the 
desperate circumstances in which our adventurers were placed 
rendered it not only inconvenient, but out of the question, to 
trouble themselves with such pets; and it had been agreed 
that they must be abandoned. Both, therefore, were leu 
upon the tree. With the macaw it was a matter of choice 
whether it should stay there. By simply spreading out its 
great hyacinthine wings it could keep pace with its ci-devant 
protectors; and they had hardly left the tree, when the bird, 
giving a loud scream, sprang from its perch, hovered a mo¬ 
ment in the air, and then, flying down, alighted on Mozey’s 
wool-covered cranium, making him hide his astonished head 
quickly under water. The arara, affrighted at having wetted 
its feet, instantly essayed to soar up again ; but its curving 
talons, that had clutched too eagerly in the descent, had be¬ 
come fixed, and all its attempts to detach them were in vain. 
The more it struggled, the tighter became the tangle; while 
its screams, united with the cries of the negro, pealed over 
the water, awaking far echoes in the forest. It was some¬ 
time before Mozey succeeded in untwisting the suarl that 
the arara had spun around its legs, and not until he had 
sacrificed several of his curls was the bird free to trust mce 
more to its wings. 


A HaLI-CHOKED SWIMMER. 


101 


We have said, that by some mystic influence the big 
monkey had become attached to Tipperary Tom, and the 
attachment was mutual. Tom had not taken his departure 
from the tree without casting more than one look of regret 
back among the branches, and under any other circumstances 
he would not have left the coaita behind him. It was only 
in obedience to the inexorable law of self-preservation that 
he had consented to the sacrifice. The monkey had shown 
equal reluctance at parting, in looks, cries, and gestures. 
It had followed its friend down to the fork, and after he had 
slipped into the water it appeared as if it would follow him, 
regardless of both instinct and experience, for it could not 
swim. These, however, proved strong enough to restrain its 
imprudence, and after its protector had gone it stood trem¬ 
bling and chattering in accents that proclaimed the agony 
of that unexpected separation. Any one listening attentively 
to its cries might have detected in the piteous tones the 
slightest commingling of reproach. How could it be other¬ 
wise to be thus deserted? Left to perish, in fact; for al¬ 
though the coaita was perfectly at home upon the sapucaya, 
and could live there as long as the nuts lasted, there was 
not the slightest chance of its getting away from the tree. 
It must stay there till the vasante, till the flood fell, and that 
would not be for months. Long before that it must un¬ 
doubtedly perish, either by drowning or starvation. 

Whether or not these unpleasant forebodings passed 
through the monkey’s wits, and whether they nerved it, 
may’never be known. Certainly something seemed to stimu¬ 
late the creature to determination ; for instead of standing 
any longer shivering in the fork of the tree, it turned sud¬ 
denly, and, darting up the trunk, ran out upon one of the 
horizontal branches. To go directly from the sapucaya to the 
forest, it was necessary to pass under this limb; and Tip¬ 
perary Tom, following in the wake of the others, had taken 
this track. He was already far out from the stem of the 


102 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


tree, almost clear of the overhanging branches, and haif 
oblivious of the painful parting, when a heavy body, pouncing 
upon his shoulders, caused both him and his empty shells 
to sink some feet under the water; for just like old Munday 
on the alligator had the monkey come down upon Tipperary 
Tom. The affrighted Irishman, on rising to the surface, 
sputtered forth a series of cries, at the same time endeavor¬ 
ing to rid himself of the unexpected rider on his back. It 
was just at this crisis, too, that the macaw had managed to 
make good its footing in the fleece of the negro. Mozey, 
however, was the first to get clear of his incubus; and then 
all eyes were directed towards Tipperary Tom and the 
clinging coaita, while peals of laughter resounded from every 
lip. 

Mozey had enfranchised himself by sacrificing a few tufts 
of his woolly hair, but the task was not so easy for Tom. In 
fact, it proved altogether impracticable ; for the coaita had 
curled its prehensile tail around his neck in a knot that 
would have made a hangman envious. The more he tugged 
at it, the more it tightened ; and had the Irishman been left 
to himself, it would have no doubt ended in his being 
strangled outright, a fate he began to dread. At this crisis 
he heard the Mundurucu shout to him across the water to 
leave the coaita alone, as then it would relax its hold. For¬ 
tunately for himself, Tom had the prudence to obey this 
well-timed counsel; and although still half suffocated by the 
too cordial embrace of his pet, he permitted it to have its 
own way, until, having approached the forest, the nonkey 
relaxed its hold, and sprang up among the branches. 


A SUPPER ON BROILED SQUAB. 


103 


CHAPTER XXXIY. 


A SUPPER QN BROILED SQUAB. 


UIDED by the Mundurucu, the swimmers entered the 



u water arcade before described, and proceeded on to 
the tree that had furnished the caoutchouc for their swim¬ 
ming-belts. The siphonia, so late the scene of strife and 
querulous complainings, was now silent as the tomb; not a 
living arara was in sight or within hearing. The few old 
birds that had survived the club conflict had forsaken the 
spot, betaking themselves to some distant part of the forest, 
perhaps out of the Gapo altogether, to mourn over nests 
’aid desolate, over chicks seized and instantly destroyed by 
ruthless hands. Only the young were there, suspended in 
a bunch from the branches. The Mundurucu mounted first, 
taking his charge along with him; and then all the others 
climbed up into the tree, where the macaw and the monkey 
— one upon wing, the other by a passage through the tree- 
tops in speed almost equalling the flight of a bird — had 
already arrived. 

Farther progress for that night was no part of their pur¬ 
pose. It would have been as idle as imprudent. The sun 
was already level with their gaze, and to have forsaken their 
perch at that hour would have been like leaving a good inn 
for the doubtful chances of the road. The seringa, wdth its 
thickly trellised limbs, offered snug quarters. Upon its net¬ 
work of parasites it was possible to repose; there were ham¬ 
mocks woven by the hand of Nature, and, rude as they 
might be, they were a pleas&Pt improvement on their couches 
of the preceding night. 

The tree contained other proofs of its hospitality. The 
fat fledglings suspended upon it promised a supper not to be 
iespised; for none of the party was a stranger to macaw 


104 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


flesh, and, as these were young and tender, eyes sparkled ana 
mouths watered on beholding them. No one expected that 
they were to be eaten raw, though there was more than one 
in the party whose appetite had become sharp enough for 
this. The Mundurucu would have shown but slight squeam¬ 
ishness at swallowing one of the squabs as it was, while to 
Mozey it would have signified less. Even Tipperary Tom 
declared his readiness to set about supping without further 
preparation. 

The semi-cannibal appetites of his companions were con 
trolled by Trevannion, who commenced talking of a fire 
How was it to be made ? IIow could the chicks be cooked ? 
His questions did not remain long unanswered. The Indian, 
eager to meet the wishes of his employer, promised that they 
should be gratified. 

“ Wait a bit, patron,” said he. “ In ten minutes’ time you 
shall have what you want, a fire; in twenty, roast arara.” 

“But how?’’asked the patron. “We have no flint nor 
steel, any of us; and if we had, where find the tinder ? ” 

“ Yonder! ” rejoined the Mundurucu. “ You see yonder 
tree on the other side of the igarape ? ” 

“That standing out by itself, with smooth, shining bark, 
and hoary, handlike leaves ? Yes, I see it. What of it ? ” 
“ It is the embauba , patron ; the tree that feeds the lazy 
sloth, the At.” 


“ O, then it is that known as the Cecropia peltata. True, 
its crown of peltate leaves declares the species. But we were 
talking gf fire, Munday. Can you obtain it from the cecro¬ 
pia? ” 


“ In ten minutes, patron, the Mundurucu will draw sparks 
from that tree, and make a fire too, if he can only obtain 
from it a dry branch, one without sap, decayed, dead. You 
shall see.” 

So saying, he swam out towards the cecropia. On reach- 
ing this, he scaled it like a squirrel, and was soon among iti 


A SUPPER ON BROILED SQUAB. 


115 


silvery fronds, that spread palm-like over the water. Soon 
the snapping of a breaking branch was heard, and shortly af¬ 
ter the Indian came gliding down the tree, and, holding the 
piece of cecropia above his head, swam with one hand towards 
the caoutchouc, which he once more ascended. On rejoining 
his companions, they saw that the stick he had secured was 
a bit of dry, dead wood, light, and of porous texture, just 
such as might be easily ignited. Not caring to make any 
secret of his design, he confirmed his companions in their 
conjecture by informing them that the embaiiba was the wood 
always employed by his people, as well as the other tribes in 
Amazonia, when they wished to make a fire; and saying 
this, he proceeded without further delay to make them ac¬ 
quainted with the proper way. Strange to say, it proved to 
be the friction process, often described as practised in remote 
corners of the world, and by savage tribes who could never 
have held the slightest communication with one another. 
Who taught them this curious mode of creating fire ? Whc 
inducted the Indian of the Amazon, and the aboriginal of 
Borneo, into the identical ideas of the suinpitan and gradata - 
na , — both blow-guns alike ? Who first instructed mankind 
in the use of the bow? Was it instinct? Was it wisdom 
from on high ? 

While Trevannion was reflecting on this strange theme, 
the Mundurucu had shaped a long spindle from a slender 
branch which he had cut from some hard wood growing near; 
and, whirling it between the palms of his hands, in less than 
ten minutes, as he had promised, sparks appear^ in the 
hollowed stick of the cecropia. Dry leaves, twigs, and bark 
had been already collected, and with these a flame was pro¬ 
duced, ending in a fire, that soon burned brightly in one of 
the forks of the seringa. Over this the young macaws, sup¬ 
ported on spits, were soon done brown ; and a supper of 
roast arara, with parched sapucaya nuts, proved anything hut 
a despicable meal to the party who partook of it. 


106 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

ONCE MORE IN THE WATER. 

O UR adventurers passed a tolerable night among" the sipoi 
of the seringa. They might have slept more soundly 
but for apprehensions about the future that intruded even 
into their dreams. Morning brought no relief, for then real¬ 
ity itself appeared ruder than the visions of fancy in their 
slumbers. They had cold macaw for breakfast, — remains 
of the preceding night’s roast, which had been kept up as long 
as the fire was alight, and carefully preserved, to serve for a 
future occasion. It was just sunrise, and as soon as the meal 
was over, they consulted seriously how to extricate them¬ 
selves from their unpleasant and perilous position, — how to 
work a deliverance from the jaws of the Gapo. Whereabouts 
ijp this strange region were they ? How far had they en* 
tered it ? They could not even frame a guess of the dis¬ 
tance traversed by the galatea before she had come to griet 
in the fork of the sapucaya. It might be twenty miles, it 
might be fifty; who could tell ? They only knew that the 
ill-fated vessel had been drifting away from the Solimoes, and 
deep into the solitudes of the Gapo. They knew they must 
be many miles from the banks of the Solimoes, and, from his 
hydrographic knowledge, already tested, the old tapuyo 
could tell its direction. But it was no longer a question 
of getting back to the channel of the great river. On the 
contrary, the object now was to reach solid land. It would 
be worse than idle to seek the Solimoes without the means of 
navigating it; for, even should the stream be reached, it 
would be one chance in a thousand to get within hail of a 
passing vessel. Almost as well might such be looked for in 
the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They were now bent on 
discovering the shortest route to the mainland* that bordered 


ONCE MORE IN THE WATER. 


107 


>his inundated region. This should be found in the direction 
opposite to that in which the river lay. It might not, but 
the probabilities were in favor of that hypothesis. They had 
but litfcl3 difficulty in determining the way to take. The 
index already pointed out by the Indian was still to be de- 
pended upon. 

The echente was still going on. The current was from 
the river, if not with absolute directness, yet with enough 
to point out the bearing of the Solimoes. The land might 
be many miles distant, — farther than the river itself, — but 
there was no alternative but to reach it or die. But how 
reach it? That was the question. They could hardly hope 
to swim the whole distance, for it must be great. A raft ? 
This too was talked of. But how was a raft to be construct¬ 
ed ? Among the tops of those water-loving trees there could 
scarce be found a stick light enough to have floated itself, let 
alone the carrying of a ponderous cargo. Out of such heavy 
timber there would be but little chance of their constructing 
a raft, and the idea was abandoned almost as soou as 
broached. But Munday’s proposal met the approbation of 
all. The water-arcade chanced to continue in the direction 
they should take. Why not once more make use of the 
3wimming-belts, that had already done such good service, 
and effect a further exploration of the flooded forest? The 
proposition was too reasonable to be rejected. It was unani¬ 
mously accepted; and, without more ado, our adventurers 
descended from the siphonia, and began to traverse the strait. 
The macaw and monkey kept their company as before, but 
no longer needed to make themselves a burden to their pro¬ 
tectors, since both could travel through the tree-tcps as the 
swimmers passed below. 


108 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


THE IGARAPE 


HEY needed no pilot to point out their course. There 



I could be no danger of straying from it. The strait they 
were following was of that kind known as an igar&pe, which, 
in the language of the Amazonian Indian, means literally 
“the path of the canoe,” — igarite being the name of the 
craft most used in the navigation of the Gapo. The strait 
itself might have been likened to a canal, running through a 
thicket, which formed on both sides a colossal hedge, laced 
together by an impenetrable network of parasitical plants. 
Unlike a canal, however, it was not of uniform breadth, here- 
and there widening into little openings that resembled lakes, 
and again narrowing until the tree-tops stretching from each 
side touched one another, forming underneath a cool, shadowy 
arcade. 

Up this singular water-way our adventurers advanced, 
under the guidance of the bordering line of verdure. Their 
progress was necessarily slow, as the two who could swim 
well were compelled to assist the others; but all were aided 
by a circumstance that chanced to be in their favor, — the 
current of the Gapo, which was going in the same direction 
with themselves. Herein they were greatly favored, for the 
flow of the flood corresponded very nearly with the course of 
the igarape ; and, as they advanced, they might have fancied 
themselves drifting down the channel of some gently flowing 
stream. The current, however, was just perceptible; and 
though it carried them along, it could not be counted on for any 
great speed. With it and their own exertions they were* en¬ 
abled to make about a mile an hour; and although this rate 
might seem intolerably slow, they were not discontented, since 
they believed themselves to be going in the right direction 


THE IGARlPE. 


109 


Had they been castaways In mid-ocean, the case would have 
been different. Such tardy travelling would have been 
hopeless; but it was otherwise in the forest sea that sur¬ 
rounded them. On one side or the other they could not be 
more than fifty miles from real dry land, and perhaps much 
less. By going right, they might reasonably hope to reach 
it, though detained upon the way. It was of the utmost im¬ 
portance, however, that the direction should be known and 
followed. A route transverse to it might take them a thou¬ 
sand miles, either way, through a flooded forest, — westward 
almost to the foot of the Andes, — eastward to the mouth of 
the Amazon! The experienced tapuyo, knowing all this, 
was extremely cautious in choosing the course they were now 
pursuing. He did not exactly keep in the line indicated by 
the flow of the flood. Although the echente was still going 
on, he knew that its current could not be at right angles to 
that of the river, but rather obliqued to it; and in swim¬ 
ming onward he made allowance for this oblique, the igarape 
fortunately trending at a similar inclination. 

Several hours were spent in slowly wending along their 
watery way, the swimmers occasionally taking a rest, stretched 
along the surface of the water, supported by hanging llianas 
or the drooping branches of the trees. At noon, however, a 
longer halt was proposed by the guide, to which his follow¬ 
ers gladly gave consent. All were influenced by a double 
desire, — to refresh themselves not only by a good rest, but 
by making a meal on the cold roast macaws, several of which 
were strapped upon the shoulders of the tapuyo. A tree 
with broad, spreading branches offered a convenient place, 
and climbing into it, they took their seats to await the dis- 
trib tion of the dinner, which was committed to the care of 
th<* x-steward, Mozey. 


110 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 


REVIOUS to ascending their dining-tree, the swimmers 



x had been more than six hours in the water, and, as 
nearly as they could guess, had made about that number of 
miles. They congratulated themselves on having met with 
no hostile inhabitants of the Gapo, for the jararaca and ja- 
care, with the perils encountered while in the presence of 
these two dangerous reptiles, were fresh enough in their re¬ 
membrance to inspire them with continual fear. All along 
the way, the Indian had been constantly upon the alert. 
Nothing had occurred to cause them alarm, though many 
strange sounds had been heard, and strange creatures had 
been seen. Most of these, however, were of a character to 
cheer rather than affright them. The sounds were mostly 
musical, — the voices of birds, — while the creatures seen 
were the birds themselves, many of beautiful forms and 
bright plumage, perched upon the tree-tops, or winging their 
way overhead. Conspicuous among them were the tiny 
winged creatures called humming-birds, with which the Gapo 
abounded. During their swim they had seen several dis¬ 
tinct species of these lovely little sprites, flashing like mete¬ 
ors over the surface of the water, or darting about through 
the tree-tops like sparks of glistening light. They appeared 
to be the gnomes and elves of the place. 

While eating dinner, our adventurers were favored with 
an excellent opportunity of observing the habits of these 
graceful and almost microscopic creatures. A tree stood 
near, whose top was surmounted by a parasite, — a species 
of bignonia, — in full blossom, that with its array of sweet- 
scented flowers completely covered the tree, almost con¬ 
cealing the green foliage underneath. Over this flowery 


ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 


Ill 


spot hundreds of humming-birds were hovering, now darting 
from point to point, anon poised upon swiftly whirring wings 
In front of an open flower, their tinj beak inserted into tha 
corolla, therefrom to extract the savory honey. There were 
several species of them, though none of them of large size, and 
all looking more like insects than birds. But for the swift¬ 
ness of their motions, they might have passed for a swarm of 
wild bees (melipomz) disporting themselves among the flowers. 
Ralph and Rosa were delighted with the spectacle, though 
it was not new to them, for the warmer valleys of the Andes, 
through which they had passed in approaching the head¬ 
waters of the Amazon, were the favorite habitat of the hum¬ 
ming-birds, and there a greater number of species exist than 
in Amazonia itself. What was new to them, however, and 
to the rest of the party as well, was some information 
Imparted by the tapuyo while they sat conversing after din¬ 
ner. He said that there were two kinds of these birds, 
which, although alike in size, beauty, bright plumage, and 
many other respects, were altogether distinct in their habits 
and ways of life. By two kinds he did not mean two spe¬ 
cies, for there were many, but two sets of species, or groups, 
as the Indian would have called them, had he been a student 
of ornithology. One set, he said, — and the several species 
then before their eyes belonged to it, — lived upon the juice 
of the flowers, and this was their only food. These fre¬ 
quented such open campos as those on the southern side of 
the Solimoes, and along the rivers running into it from that 
direction. They were also common in plantations, and other 
places where clearings had been made, or where the forest 
was thin and scattering, because there only could they find 
a sufficiency of flowers. It was only at times that they 
made excursions into the great water-forest, when some of 
the sipo plants were in blossom, just as the one before them 
was at that time. The species they saw did not belong tc 
the Gape. They had only strayed there upon a roving ex 


112 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


cursion, and would soon return to the mainland, — the tree¬ 
less regions. The kinds that frequented the great forest 
never went out of it, and cared nothing about flowers. If 
seen hovering around a tree in blossom, it was only be¬ 
cause they were in pursuit of insects, which had been at¬ 
tracted thither in search of the sweet juices. Upon these 
the forest humming-birds regularly preyed, making their ex¬ 
clusive diet upon flies, which they caught as much among 
the foliage as the flowers, darting upon the insects whenever 
they perched upon the leaves, and snapping them up either 
from the upper or under side. They built their nests upon 
the tips of the palm-leaves, choosing the side that was inward 
towards the tree, from which they suspended them. They 
were purse-shaped, and composed of fibres closely woven 
together with a thick lining of a fine, soft silk-cotton, taken 
from the fruit of a tree called samauma. They did not 
come much into the sun, like the other kinds, but kept more 
in the shade, and might be often met whirring about in the 
aisles of the forest. Sometimes they would poise themselves 
in the air, right in front of a person passing through among 
the tree trunks, and, after remaining till the intruder’s face 
would be within a few feet of them, would fly on in advance 
of him, and again come to a pause in the same way, repeating 
the manoeuvre several times in succession. All these things, 
averred the observant Indian, made the humming-birds that 
kept constantly to the forest very different from those that 
only visited it upon occasions, and therefore, in his opinion, 
they were of two distinct kinds. And his opinion was the 
correct one, founded on observations already made by the 
ornithologist, and which have resulted in the classification of 
the humming-birds into two great groups, the Trochilina 
and PhcethomiruE. 


A CUL-DE-SAC. 


113 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

A CUL-DE-SAC. 

N OTWITHSTANDING the pleasant theme that formed 
the subject of their after-dinner discourse, it was not 
long continued. Both those who took part in it and those 
who listened were too anxious about their situation to enjoy 
even the most interesting conversation. As soon, therefore, 
as they felt sufficiently recruited by the rest, they resumed 
their aquatic journey. For several hours they continued to 
advance at the same slow rate, without encountering any in¬ 
cident worthy of record. The igarape still trended in a 
straight line, with only here and there a slight turning to 
one side or the other, preserving, however, the same general 
direction, which was northward. This they had discovered 
on the night before, not by observing the polar star, which 
is at no time visible at the equator, nor until you have 
travelled several degrees to the north of it. Even when 
this well-known star should be seen from the low latitudes 
of the torrid zone, it is usually obscured by the hazy film 
extending along the horizon. Sirius and other northern 
constellations had guided them. As the sun had been shin¬ 
ing throughout the whole of that day as well as the pre¬ 
ceding one, you may suppose there could be no difficulty 
in discovering the quarter, within a point or two of the com¬ 
pass, at any hour of the day. This might be true to any 
one travelling in a high latitude, northern or southern, or 
at certain seasons of the year, anywhere outside the tropics. 
Even within the tropics it might be done by skilful obser¬ 
vation, if the observer knew the exact time of the year. 
Trevannion knew the time. He knew, moreover, that it 
was close upon the vernal equinox, when the sun was cross¬ 
ing the equatorial line, near to which they were wandering 

x: 



114 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


For this reason, in the meridian hours the great orb was right 
over their heads, and no one — not even a skilled astrono* 
mer — could have told north from south, or east from west. 

Supposing that the igar&pe should not be trending in the 
same direction, but imperceptibly departing from it? In that 
case, during the mid-hours of the day they could have had 
no guidance from the sky. and must have suspended their 
journey till the sun should begin to sink towards the west, 
and once more make known the points of the compass. 
Fortunately they needed not to make this delay. As al¬ 
ready observed, the flow of the flood was the pilot to which 
they looked for keeping them in their course; and, as this 
still ran with a slight obliquity in the same direction as the 
igarape, the latter could not have departed from the right 
line upon which they had been advancing. The current had 
been compared with the points of the compass that morning 
before setting out. It was a little to the east of north. 
Northward, then, was the course of the swimmers. 

They had drawn further inference from the direction in 
which the flood was setting. It proved that they had 
strayed from the Solimoes by its left or northern bank, and 
must now be somewhere among the mouths of the great 
river Japura. It was no consolation to discover this, but 
the contrary. The old tapuyo only looked graver on ar¬ 
riving at the conviction that such was the case. He knew 
that in that direction, in the vast delta formed by the un¬ 
numbered branches of the Japura, the Gapo was of great 
width, extending far back from the banks of this remarkable 
river, and dry land in that direction might be at the great¬ 
est distance. There was no alternative but to keep on, and, 
by deviating from the course as little as possible, they 
might in due time reach the limits of the flood. Actuated 
by this impulse aud its attendant hopes, they continued their 
toilsome journey along “ the path of the canoe.” 

We have said that for several hours they encountered no 

















































































































A CUL-DE-SAC 


115 


incident worthy of note. It was not d «stined, however, for 
that day’s sun to set before one should arise, whos^ record 
is not a matter of choice, but necessity, since it exerted such 
an influence on the proceedings of the travellers as to cause 
a complete change in their mode of progression. What they 
encountered was not exactly an incident, but an obstruction. 
In other words, their swim was suddenly brought to an end 
by the ending of the igarape! 

They had arrived at the termination of this curious canal, 
which all at once came to a cul-de-sac , the trees closing in on 
both sides, and presenting an impenetrable front, that forbade 
farther progress. The way was equally obstructed in every 
other direction; for on neither side of the igarape, through¬ 
out its whole length, had any opening been observed. At 
first they fancied that the water might open again beyond the 
obstruction, but Munday, after penetrating a short distance 
among the tree trunks, returned to declare his conviction that 
the igarape was at an end. Nor did it terminate by any grad¬ 
ual convergence of the two lines of trees. On the contrary, 
they came together in an abrupt circular sweep, — one of 
colossal size, that rose high above its fellows and spread far 
out, standing in the centre, like some Titanic guardian of the 
forest, and seeming to say to the igarape, “ Hitherto shalfc 
thou come, but no farther! ” 

It was of no use remaining longer in the water for that 
day. Even had the obstruction not arisen, it was time to 
have suspended their exertions. The sun was sinking towards 
the tree-tops, and by the time they could get themselves 
snugly stowed away, and something ready for supper, it 
would be night. Leaving other cares for the morrow, and 
the morrow to take care of itself, they at once proceeded to 
select their sleeping-place for the night. The colossal tree 
that hqd come so unpleasantly across their track seemed to 
offer the very quarters they weij in search of; and, without 
more ado, they accepted the hospitality of its wide-spreading 
branches. 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


i:« 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE BRAZIL-NUTS. 

T HE tree upon which they had made their i Qost was one 
of a species of which they had observed many during 
the day. It was the true Brazil-nut (Berthollctia excelsa ), 
own cousin to the sapucaya; for both are of the same family, 
— the Lecythis, — of which there are many distinct mem¬ 
bers. Like the sapucaya, it is a denizen of the low lands 
and flooded forests, growing to a stupendous height. It pro¬ 
duces large, showy flowers, which are succeeded by huge cap- 
sule-like pericarps, each enclosing a score or more of Brazil- 
nuts. But though the flowers are followed by the fruits, 
these do not all come together; and, like the orange and 
other tropical trees, bud, blossom, and fruit may all be ob¬ 
served upon the same branch, in various stages of develop¬ 
ment. 

It need not be said that the nuts of the Bertholletia form 
one of the commercial staples oLAmazonia. They are too 
well known to need further description; for there are few 
dwelling-houses in either Europe or America where they 
have not been submitted to the squeeze of the nut-crackers. 
Tn the forest, where they are no man’s property, they are 
collected by whoever chooses to take the trouble, but chiefly 
by the Indians and half-breeds who dwell on the borders 
of the Gapo. The time to gather the Brazil-nuts is the 
vasante, or dry season, though there are certain tribes of 
savages that go nutting in their canoes during the season of 
the ecliente . But the real nut harvest is after the floods have 
subsided, and the trees once more stand upon dry land. 
Then the whole malocca of Indians, or the inhabitants of a 
village, proceed in a body to the places where the fruits are 
to be found, scattered around the stems of the tall trees that 
have produced them. 


THE BRAZIL NUTS. 


117 


In gathering their crop the gleaners require to observe 
certain precautions, those who go under the trees covering 
their heads with a thick wooden cap, resembling a helmet, 
lest the dropping of the heavy capsules — big as a cannon¬ 
ball, and almost as heavy — might crack a skull! For this 
reason the monkeys of the Amazon forest, though crazy for 
sapucaya and Brazil-nuts, always give the Bertholletia a wide 
berth, never going under, but around it, in a circle whose 
circumference lies outside the tips of the branches. Strange 
to say, these creatures have no fear of the sapucaya, although 
its pericarps are as large and heavy as those of the Brazil- 
nuts. But the former do not fall to the ground, or when 
they do, it is only after the lid has sprung open, and the 
huge cup has scattered its contents, leaving it a light and 
empty shell. It is for this reason, as much as anything else, 
that the nuts of the sapucaya are scarce in the market, and 
command a higher price. Having escaped spontaneously 
from their shell, they are at the mercy of all comers, birds, 
quadrupeds, and monkeys; whereas the Brazil-nuts, pro¬ 
tected by their thick woody pericarps, are not so easily ac¬ 
cessible. Even the monkeys cannot get at them, until some 
animal with teeth better adapted for chiselling performs for 
them the service of laying open the box, and giving them a 
ehance at the treasures contained within. This is done by 
several species of rodents, among which th e*cutia and paca 
are conspicuous; and one of the most comical spectacles to 
be seen in a South American forest is that of a group of 
monkeys, watching from a distance the proceedings of a paca 
thus employed, and then springing forward to take forcible 
possession of the pericarp after it has been sufficiently 
opened. 

It was a bit of good fortune that our adventurers found 
lodgings upon the Bertholletia . Though more hospitality 
may usually be met with in an iun, it provided them with at 
least a portion of their supper, — the bread-stud They had 


118 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST, 


Btill left a brace of the macaw squabs that had not bee* 
roasted ; but Munday, as before, soon produced sufficient firs 
to give them a scorching, and keen appetites supplied sail, 
pepper, and sauce. 


CHAPTER XL. 

A TRAVELLING PARTY OF GUARIBAS. 

S UPPER over, our adventurers only awaited the sunset 
to signal them to their repose. They had already se¬ 
lected their beds, or what was to serve for such,— the spaces 
of horizontal network formed by the intertwining of luxuriant 
llianas. At the best, it was no better than sleeping upon a 
naked hurdle; but they had been already somewhat inured to 
an uneasy couch on the galatea, and they were every day 
becoming less sensitive to necessities and hardships. They 
were all tired with the severe exertions they had made; for 
although their journey had been but about six miles, it was 
enough to equal sixty made upon land. They felt as if they 
could go to sleep astride of a limb, or suspended from a 
branch. 

It was not decreed by fate that they should find rest before 
being made the witnesses of a spectacle so curious, that, had 
they been ever so much inclined for sleep, would have kept 
them awake against their will. 

A noise heard afar off in the forest attracted their atten 
tion. There was nothing in it to alarm them, though had 
they not heard it before, or something similar to it, their fears 
might have been excited to the utmost pitch of terror. What 
they heard was the lugubrious chant of a band of howling 
monkeys. Of all the voices of Nature that awake the echoes 
of the Amazonian forest, there is perhaps none so A\\e-inspir» 



A TRAVELLING PARTY OF UUARIBAS. 


119 


mg as this. It is a combination of sounds, that embrace the 
various tones of shrieking, screaming, chattering, growling, 
and howling, mingled with an occasional crash, and a rattle, 
such as might proceed from the throat of a dying maniac. 
And yet all this is often the product of a single mycetes , or 
howling monkey, whose , hollow hyoidal bone enables him to 
send forth every species of sound, from the rolling of a basa 
drum to the sharp squeak of a penny-whistle. 

“ Guaribas! ” quietly remarked the Mundurucii, as the 
distant noise was first heard. 

“Howling monkeys you mean ?” interrogatively rejoined 
Trevannion. 

“ Yes, patron, and the loudest howlers of the whole tribe. 
You ’ll hear them presently. They are coming this way.” 

“They’re not far off now, I should say, if one may judge 
by the loudness of their cries.” 

“ All of a mile yet, patron. It proves that the forest 
stretches more than a mile in that direction, else the guaribas 
could not be there. If there be open water between us and 
them, they won’t come this w r ay. If not, we ’ll have them 
here in ten minutes’ time. I wish we could only travel 
among the tree-tops as they can. We shouldn’t stay long in 
the Gapo.” 

“Just as the Mundurucii expected,” continued the tapuyo, 
after a pause. “The guaribas are coming towards us. I can 
hear the swishing of the leaves as they pass among them 
We ’ll soon see them.” 

The howling of the guaribas had for some time ceased, but 
the rustling of leaves, with the occasional snapping of a twig, 
to which the Indian had directed the attention of his com¬ 
panions, told that the troop was travelling through the tree- 
tops, otherwise observing a profound silence. 

Soon they appeared in sight, suddenly presenting thern- 
Belves upon a tall tree that stood by the side of the iga- 
r/ipe, about a cable’s length from that occupied by our ad- 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


m 



venturers. For some minutes the branches of the tree were 
seen oscillating up and down, as each black guariba sprang 
into it: and this continued until not less than a hundred had 
found lodgement upon the limbs. As the leader of the band, 
who was evidently chief of ^fe^tribe, caught sight of the 
v* ar&pe, he was seen to pause an abrupt and ambiguous 


manner, at the same moment giving utterance to a cry, easily 
intelligible as a word of command. It had the effect ot 
causing those immediately behind him to come to a halt, as 
also the others, as they sprang successively into the tree. 
There could be no question as to what had caused the halt. 
It was the igarape crossing the track which the guaribas were 
going. With them the only question was, how they were 
to get over it. 









A TRAVELLING PARTY OF GUARIBAS. 


121 


At the point where the howlers had clustered together, the 
strait was narrower than elsewhere within sight. Between 
the branches, extending horizontally from the opposite sides 
of the igardpe, there was a clear space of about twenty feet; 
and to th 3 spectators it appeared improbable that any animat 
without wings could leap frem^tree to tree. The monkeys, 
however, did not seem to.be&fj^this opinion, but were plainly 
contemplating the leap; and it^fe evident that some of them 
were only restrained from taking it by an authoritative com 
mand from their chief, which held them in check. For sev¬ 
eral minutes there was a profound silence among them, un¬ 
disturbed until the stragglers had all arrived in the tree, and 
squatted on the branches. 

It was now observed that among these last were several 
mothers, each carrying a child upon her back, or embraced 
between her bare arms; the youngster with face upturned, 
clinging, not with teeth and toe-nail, but with hands and tail, 
to the neck of its maternal parent. To these the attention 
of the whole tribe appeared to be directed; and it was evi¬ 
dent that they were the sole cause of the difficulty, — the im¬ 
pedimenta that had interrupted the onward march of the troop. 

There had been confusion, accompanied by some chatter¬ 
ing, after first coming up; but a sign from the leader had put 
an end to all noise, and then succeeded the silence already 
mentioned. During its continuance the guariba chief slowly 
ascended the tree, until he had attained a position elevated 
above all his followers. Then squatting down, with his hams 
firmly planted upon a branch, his long tail carefully coiled 
around another, he commenced his harangue with as much 
ceremony as if he had been chairman of a Guild-Hall dinner. 
Perhaps there was quite as much sense and eloquence in his 
speech ; at all ev'ents, there was more noise: for during the 
ten minutes taken up by it — it had the advantage of brevity 
— no other sound could have been heard over the Gapo with* 
in the circuit of a mile. 

6 


122 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


His address being ended, the chief, by a series of delached 
speeches, seemed to invite a reply from his followers, coaxing 
their assent, or daring them to contradiction. There appeared 
to be no dissent, not one voice. The chattering that respond¬ 
ed to the speech was delivered in a tone that spoke unani¬ 
mous compliance with the proposal — whatever it was — * 
which their chief had offered to their consideration. 

Then ensued another interval of silence, much shorter than 
before, and again interrupted by the leader of the troop. This 
time, however, his words were few and to the purpose. They 
were pronounced in a tone of command, that called for prompt 
obedience, which was yielded instantaneously and without 
protest. 

One of the strongest of the guaribas ran out upon the limb 
overhanging the igardpe, and, stopping at its extremity, braced 
himself for the leap. In another instant it was made, and the 
monkey was seen rushing up into the tree on the other side 
of the igar&pe. A comrade followed, placing his four hands 
in the same spot, his body in a similar attitude, and making 
the leap so exactly like the guariba that had preceded him, 
that it seemed the same monkey repeating the performance. 
Then went another, and another, so close following, that the 
creatures appeared more like the links of some colossal bul 
quick-moving chain, pulled by supernatural power across the 
igardpe, than a series of individual and animated beings. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

THE MONKEY MOTHER 


O UR adventurers sat in silent wonder watching the move¬ 
ments of the monkeys. It was certainly a spectacle of 



THE MONKEY MOTHER. 


123 


the most interesting character to see these creatures making 
the passage of the igar&pe. Perhaps the most singular 
thing was the similarity of their leaps, — all planting their 
feet upon the same spot of the branch from which the leader 
sprang, springing exactly in the same way, and alighting on 
the opposite side in apparently the same spot and attitude, 
proving that each and all must have been actuated by the 
same thought or instinct at the precise moment of passing 
from one tree to the other. Another singular point was, that 
during its continuance the intervals between each two were 
almost as regular as the ticking of a clock. As soon as 
one launched itself out from the branch, another sprang into 
its place, and was ready to follow so quickly that the air was 
never for a moment without a monkey ; and any one looking 
straight down the opening between the trees, without glanc¬ 
ing to either side, might almost have fancied that it was a sin¬ 
gle guariba suspended in mid-air! 

All the males of the tribe had succeeded in making the 
leap in safety ; and all the females, too, — those carrying 
their “ pickaninnies ” along with the rest, — except one. 
This was a mother with a very young child on her back, — 
in fact a mere infant, — perhaps not nine days old. Not¬ 
withstanding its extreme youth, it appeared to comprehend 
the situation, as well as those of more mature age, clinging 
with its infantile fingers to the shaggy hide of its mother, 
while its tiny tail was twisted around the root of hers, in a 
loop that appeared tight as a sailor’s knot. 

But the mother, enfeebled by some sickness, — for mon¬ 
keys are subject to sickness as well as men, — appeared 
doubtful of her ability to accomplish the leap ; and, after all 
the others had crossed, she stood upon the branch evidently 
only half determined about following them. At this crisis 
occurred a curious incident, — the first of a series. One of 
those that had crossed, a man-monkey, was seen to separate 
from the crowd, that had by this time ascended to the top of 


124 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the tree. Returning along the limb to which they had just 
leaped, he placed himself opposite to the hesitating female 
and began to chatter, intending to encourage her, as his ges¬ 
tures showed. The mother of the infant made reply ; but 
although the sounds were unintelligible to the human spec¬ 
tators, they might be translated as saying, “It’s not a bit of 
use, my trying; I shall only get a ducking for my pains, and 
the infant too. It may be drowned.” 

Her reply was delivered in a tone of appeal; and, as if 
affected by it, the male monkey—evidently the father of the 
child — made no more remonstrance, but bounded back 
across the open water. It was but the work of six seconds 
for him to transfer the juvenile to his own shoulders ; and in 
as many more both he and it were on the right side of the 
igarape. Relieved of her charge and encouraged by the 
cries of those already across, the mother sprang out from the 
branch. The effort was too great for her strength. With 
her forefinger she caught the twigs on the opposite side and 
succeeded in clutching them; but before she could lap the 
branch with her tail, — a more trustworthy means of pre¬ 
hension,— she had sunk below its level, and, the twigs giving 
way,’she plunged into the water. 

A universal scream came from the top of the tree, and a 
score or more of guafibas leaped down upon the limb from 
which the unfortunate had fallen. There was a scene of con¬ 
tusion,—just as there would have been had the catastrophe 
happened among human beings, — as when a boat upsets, or 
Borne one breaks through the ice, and spectators stand speech- • 
less, or hurry to and fro, no one knowing exactly what to do, 
— what order to give, or whom to obey. 

Very like was the scene of surprise, terror, and lamenta¬ 
tion among the monkeys, — except that it did not last quite 
so long. In this respect animal instinct, as it is called, has 
the advantage of bewildered reason ; and, while a crowd upon 
the sea-beach or the river-bank would have spent ton minutes 


THE MONKEY MOTHER. 


12.i 


before taking action to rescue the drowning individual, scarce¬ 
ly so many seconds were allowed to elapse before the guaribas 
had picked up and safely deposited her trembling person on 
the fork of a tree. 

The mode in which this had been accomplished was some¬ 
thing to astonish the spectators, and yet it was performed in 
a very efficient manner. As soon as the screaming would 
permit, the voice of the guariba chieftain was heard, in a 
chattering so loud and serious in tone as to indicate com¬ 
mand ; and some half-score of the number, in obedience, 
glided out on the limb of the tree under which the female 
was in imminent danger of being drowned. A bucket could 
not have descended into a well, or a pulley-tackle come 
down from warehouse or mill, more promptly and speedily 
than did that string of monkeys, hooked neck and tail to one 
another, like the links of a long chain, — the lowest upon the 
swinging series being the husband of the half-drowned moth¬ 
er, who had hastily deposited his baby in one of the forkings 
of the tree. Neither could the water-bucket have been 
filled, nor the wheat-sack hooked on, with half the speed and 
agility with which she was picked up and restored. 

Once more shouldering her “chickabiddy,” she took her 
place in the troop, which, without further delay, moved on 
amid the tree-tops, keeping in a direst line of march, as if 
bent upon a journey that was to terminate at some spot al¬ 
ready known to them. For a long time their track could be 
traced by their continuous howling, wh'ch then was heard 
only at intervals, and at length receded to such a distance as 
to become inaudible. 


126 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER X L11 


THE MUNDURUCU DISCOURSES OF MCKXETS 


HE sun was just setting as the guaribas disappeared; and 



I from this circumstance it was conjectured that they were 
on their return to some favorite resting-place. Trevannion 
supposed that they might be on their way to dry land; and, 
if so, the route they had taken might serve himself and party 
for a direction. He mentioned this to the Mundurucii, who 
shook his head, not doubtfully, but as a simple negative. 

“ You think it would be of no use our taking the direction 
in which they have gone ? ” said the miner interrogatively. 

“ No, patron; not a bit of good in that. They are as like 
to be going from terra firma as towards it. It’s all the same 
to them whether they sleep over land, or water, so long as 
they have the trees to cling to. They are now trooping to 
some roost they have a fancy for, — perhaps some very big 
tree, — which they use at all times for their night-rendezvous, 
and where others of the same tribe will be likely to meet 
them. These have been off to some favorite feeding-sround, 
where the fruit may be more plenty than in the neighbor¬ 
hood of their regular dwelling-place; or they may have been 
upon some ramble for amusement.” 

“ What! do monkeys make such excursions ? ” inquired 
young Ralph. 

“ 0 yes,” replied the Mundurucii. “ I’ve often met them 
irooping about among the trees, where nuts and fruits were 
in plenty; and have watched them, for hours at a time, with¬ 
out seeing them pluck a single one; — only chattering and 
screeching and laughing and playing tricks upon each other, 
as if they had nothing else to do. Neither have they when 
certain sorts of fruit are ripe, especially soft fruits, such as 
berries and the pulpy nuts of several kinds of palms, as tin 


THE MUNDURUCU DISCOURSES OF MONKEYS. 127 


pvpunha and ctssai. It is a little different at other seasons, 
when they have to live on the Brazil-nuts and sapucayas; 
then they have something to do to get at the kernels inside 
the thick shells, and at this they employ a good deal of their 
time.’ , 

“ Do they sleep perched on the trees, or have they 
nests among the branches in which they can lie down at their 
ease ? ” 

“They have nests, but not for that. The females only 
use them when about to bring forth their young. As 
sleeping at their ease, they can do that on the very slender¬ 
est of branches. It’s no hardship to them, as it is to us. 
Not a bit.” 

“ But do they not sometimes fall off in their sleep ? ” 

“ How could they do that, young master, when they have 
their tails to hold on by ? Before going to sleep they take a 
turn or two of their long tail round a branch, not always the 
one their body is on, but more commonly a branch a little 
above it. For that matter they don’t need any branch to 
rest upon. They can go to sleep, and often do, hanging by 
the tail, — for that is the position in which they are. most 
at ease ; just as you would be reclining in a hammock. I’ve 
seen them scores of times asleep that way. To prove that 
they feel most at home when hanging by ihe tail, they take 
to it whenever any alarm comes suddenly upon them; and 
they want to be in readiness for retreat, in case of its prov¬ 
ing to be an enemy.” 

“ What singular creatures ! ” said Ralph, half in solilo¬ 

quy- 

“ You speak truth, young master. They have many att 
odd way, that would lead one to believe that they had as 
much sense as some kinds of men. You have^seen how they 
picked up the old one that fell into the water; but I’ve seen 
them do a still stranger thing than that. It is but the common¬ 
est of their contrivances, put in practice every time they want 


128 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


to pluck a nut, or some fruit that grows near the end of a 
branch too slender to carry their weight. If there’s a 
stronger limb above, they go out upon it; and then, clinging 
together as you saw them do, they let themselves down till 
the last in the string can lay hold of the fruit. Sometimes 
there is no branch right over the spot; but that don’t hinder 
them from getting what they have coveted, if they can find a 
stout limb anyways near. Then they make their string all 
the same; and, by setting it in motion, they swing back and 
forward, until the lowest of the party is tossed out within 
reach of the fruit. I’ve seen them try this, and find that 
their string was just a few inches too short, when another 
monkey would glide down upon the others, and add his length 
to complete it. Then I’ve seen them make a bridge, young 
master.” 

“ Make a bridge! Are you in earnest ? How could 
They?” 

“ Well, just in the same way as they get within reach of 
the nuts.” 

“ But for what purpose ? ” 

“ To get across some bit of water, as a fast-running stream, 
where they would be drowned if they fell in.” 

“ But how do they accomplish it ? To make a bridge re¬ 
quires a skilled engineer among men ; are there such among 
monkeys ?” 

“ Well, young master, I won’t call it such skill; but it’s very 
like it. When on their grand journeyings they come to a 
stream, or even an igarape like this, and find they can’t leap 
from the trees on one side to those growing on the other, it is 
then necessary for them to make the bridge. They go up or 
down the bank till they find two tall trees opposite each 
other. They climb to a high branch on the one, and then, 
linking together, as you’ve seen them, they set their string 
in motion, and swing backward and forward, till one at the 
•md can clutch a branch of the tree, on the opposite side. 



THE MUNDURUCU DISCOURSES OF MONKEYS. 


12S 


This done the bridge is made, and all the troop, the old ones 
that are too stiff to take a great leap, and the young ones 
that are too weak, run across upon the bodies of their stout¬ 



er comrades. When all have 
passed over, the monkey at the 
other end of the string lets go 
his hold upon the branch ; and 
if he should be flung into the 
water, it don’t endanger him, as 
he instantly climbs up the bodies 
of those above him, the next * 
doing the same, and the next 
also, until all have got safe into the trees. 

“ Be japers,” exclaimed Tipperary Tom, it’s wonderful 
how the craythers can do it! But, Misther Munday, have 
yez iver seen them fall from a tree-top ? ” 

“ No, never. But I ’ve known one to leap from the top of 
a tree full a hundred feet in height.” 

6 * * 









130 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


“ Shure it was kilt dead then ? ” 

“ If it was it acted very oddly lor a dead animal, as it had 
scarce touched the ground when it sprang back up another 
tree of equal height, and scampered to the top branches 
nearly as quick as it came down.” 

“ Ah ! ” sighed Trevannion, “ if we had only the activity of 
these creatures, how soon we might escape from this unfortu¬ 
nate dilemma. Who knows what is before us ? Let us pray 
before going to rest for the night. Let us hope that He, in 
whose hands we are, may listen to our supplications, and soon¬ 
er or later relieve us from our misery.” And so saying, the 
ex-miner repeated a well-remembered prayer, in the response 
to which not only the young people, but the Indian, the Afri¬ 
can, and the Irishman fervently joined. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

TWO SLUMBERERS DUCKED. 

I T was somewhere among the mid-hours of the night, and 
all appeared to be as sound asleep as if reclining upon 
couches,of eider-down. Not a voice was heard among the 
branches of the Brazil-nut, — not a sound of any kind, if we 
except the snore that proceeded from the spread nostrils of the 
negro, and that of a somewhat sharper tone from the nasal or¬ 
gan of the Irishman. Sometimes they snored together, and 
for several successive trumpetings this simultaneity would be 
kept up. Gradually, however, one would get a little ahead, 
and then the two snorers would be heard separately, as if 
the two sleepers were responding to each other in a kind 
of dialogue carried on by their noses. All at once this 
nasal duet was interrupted by a rustling among the boughs 



TWO SLUMBERERS DUCKED. 


131 


npon which rested Tipperary Tom. The rustling was suc¬ 
ceeded by a cry, quickly followed by a plunge. 

The cry and the plunge woke everybody upon the tree ; and 
while several inquired the cause of the disturbance, a second 
shout, and a second plunge, instead of affording a clew to the 
cause of alarm, only rendered the matter more mysterious. 
There was a second volley of interrogatories, but among 
the inquiring voices two were missing,— those of Mozey 
and the Irishman. Both, however, could now be heard be¬ 
low ; not very articulate, but as if their owners were chok- 
*ng. At the same time there was a plashing and a plung¬ 
ing under the tree, as if the two were engaged in a strug¬ 
gle for life, 

u What is it? Is it you, Tom? Is it you, Mozey?’’ were 
the questions that came thick and fast from those still upon 
the tree. 

“ Och ! acli! — I’m chokin’! — I’m — ach — drown — ach 
-—drownin’! — Help ! help ! ” cried a voice, distinguishable as 
the Irishman’s, while Mozey’s was exerted in a similar dec 
laration. 

All knew that Tom could not swim a stroke. With the 
Mozambique it was different. He might sustain himself 
above water long enough to render his rescue certain. 
With Tom no time was to be lost, if he was to be saved 
from a watery grave ; and, almost with his cry for help, 
Richard Trevannion and the Mundurucii plunged in after 
him. 

For a time, Trevannion himself and his two children could 
hear, underneath them, only a confused medley of sounds, — 
the splashing of water mingled with human voices, some 
speaking, or rather shouting, in accents of terror, others in 
encouragement. The night was dark; but had it been 
ever so clear, even had the full moon been shining above, 
her beams could not have penetrated \hrough the spread 
ing branches’ of the Brazil-nut, melteu and lined as they 
were with thorns and leafy llianas 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST 


l 32 

It would seem an easy task for two such swimmers as the 
Indian and Paraense to rescue Tipperary Tom from his peril. 
Put it was not quite so easy. They had got hold of him, one 
on each side, as soon as the darkness allowed them to discern 
him. But this was not till they had groped for some time; 
and then he was found in such a state of exhaustion that it 
required all the strength of both to keep his chin above the 
surface. 

Mozey was fast becoming as helpless as Tom, being more 
than half paralyzed by the fright he had got from being 
precipitated into + he water while still sound asleep. Such a 
singular awaking was sufficient to have confused a cranium 
of higher intellectual development than that of the Mozam¬ 
bique. 

After having discovered their half-drowned companions, 
neither Richard nor the Mundurucii knew exactly what to do 
with them. Their first thought was to drag them towards 
the trunk of the tree, under which they had been immersed. 
This they succeeded in doing; but once alongside the stem, 
they found themselves in no better position for getting out of 
the water. There was not a branch within reach by which 
to raise themselves, and the bark was as smooth as glass, and 
slippery with slime. 

When first ascending into the great tree, they had made 
use of some hanging parasite, which now in the darkness 
they were unable to find. Even the two swimmers began to 
despond. If not their own lives, those of their comrades 
might be lost in that gloomy aisle, whose pavement was the 
subtle, deceitful flood. At this-crisis an idea occurred to the 
young Paraense that promised to rescue them from their per¬ 
ilous position, and he called out, “ The swimming-belts! 
fling down the swimming-belts ! * His uncle and cousin, by 
this time having a clearer comprehension of what had oc* 
curred, at once obeyed the command. Richard and the 
Indian were not slow to avail themselves of this timely assist- 


OPEN WATER. 


13! 


imce ) and in a trice the two half-drowned men were buoyed 
up beyond further danger. 

On getting back into the Tlertholettia, there was a general 
explanation. Tipperary Tom was the cause of the awkward 
incident. Having gone to sleep without taking proper pre¬ 
cautions, his limb*, relaxed by slumber, had lost their pre¬ 
hensile power, and, sliding through the llianas, he had fallen 
plump into the water below, a distance of more than a dozen 
feet. His cries, and the consequent plunge, had startled the 
negro so abruptly that he too had lost his equilibrium, and 
had soused down the instant after. 

The Mundurucii was by no means satisfied with the occur¬ 
rence. It had not only interrupted his repose, but given him 
a wet shirt in which to continue it. He was determined, 
however, that a similar incident should not, for that night, 
occur, — at least not with the same individuals, — and before 
returning to his roost he bound both of them to theirs with 
sipos strong enough to resist any start that might be caused 
by the most terrible of dreams. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

OPEN WATER. 

T HE next day was spent in explorations. These did not 
extend more than four hundred yards from their sleep¬ 
ing-place ; but, short as was the distance, it cost more trouble 
to traverse it than if it had been twenty miles on land, across 
an open country. 

It was a thicket through which the explorers had to pass, 
but such a thicket as one acquainted only with the ordinary 
woods of Northern countries can have no conception of. It 



134 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


was a matted tangle of trees and parasitical plants, many of 
the latter — such as the climbing jacitara palms, the huge 
cane-briers, and bromelias—thickly set with sharp spines, 
that rendered it dangerous to come in contact with them. 
Even had there been firm footing, it would have been no 
easy task to make way through such a network ; but, consid¬ 
ering that it was necessary to traverse the wood by passing 
from tree to tree, all the time keeping in their tops, it will 
not be wondered at that a few hundred yards of such progress 
was accounted a day’s journey. 

You must not suppose that all the party of our adventurers 
went even thus far. In fact, all of them remained in the 
Brazil-nut, except the two who had acted as explorers on the 
former occasion, — Richard and the Mundurucu. It would 
have been worse than idle for any other to have accompanied 
them. 

It was near sunset when they returned with their report, 
which to Trevannion and his party seemed anything but en¬ 
couraging. The explorers had penetrated through the forest, 
finding it flooded in every direction. Not an inch of dry land 
had they discovered; and the Indian knew, from certain signs 
well understood by him, that none was near. The rapid drift 
of the current, which he had observed several times during 
the day, was one of these indications. It could not, he de¬ 
clared, be running in that way, if dry land were in the vicini¬ 
ty. So far, therefore, as reaching the shore was concerned, 
they might make up their minds for a long journey; and 
how this was to be performed was the question of the 
hour. 

One point the explorers had definitely determined. The 
igardpe terminated at their sleeping-place. There wa3 no 
sign of it beyond. Instead, however, they had come upon an 
opening of a very different character. A vast expanse of 
water, without any trees, had been found, its nearest edge 
being the limit of their day’s excursion. This open water did 


OPEN WATER. 


135 


not extend quite to the horizon. Around it, on all sides, trees 
could be seen, or rather the tops of trees ; for it was evident 
that the thicket-like bordering was but the “ lop and top ” of 
a submerged forest. On returning to the “ roost,” Munday 
urged their going towards the open water. 

“ For what purpose ? ” inquired the patron, who failed to 
perceive any good reason for it. “We can’t cross it, there 
being no sort of craft to carry us. We cannot make a raft 
out of these green branches, full of sap as they are. What’s 
the use of our going that way ? You say there’s open water 
almost as far as you can see, — so much the worse, I should 
think.” 

“No, patron,” replied the Indian, still addressing Trevan- 
nion as respectfully as when acting as his hired tapuyo. “ So 
much the better, if you give me leave to differ with you. Our 
only hope is to find open water.” 

“Why, we have been all along coming from it. Isn’t 
there plenty of it behind us ?” 

“ True, patron ; but it’s not running in the right direction. 
If we launched upon it, the current would be against us. 
Remember, master, ’t is the echente. We could n’t go that 
way. If we could, it would only bring us back to the river- 
channel, where, without some sort of a vessel, we should soon 
go to the bottom. Now the open Gapo we’ve seen to-day is 
landward, though the land may be a good way off. Still, by 
crossing it, we shall be getting nearer to firm ground, and 
that’s something.” 

“ By crossing it ? But how ? ” 

“ We must swim across it.” 

“ Why, you’ve just said that it stretches almost to the edge 
of the horizon. It must be ten miles or more. Do you mean 
to say we can swim so far ? ” 

“What’s to hinder us, master? You have the monkey- 
pots ; they will keep you above water. If not enough foi 
all, we can get more. Plenty of the sapucaya-trees here.” 


136 


N 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


“ But what would be the object of our crossing this expanse 
of water ? You say there is no dry land on the other side; 
in that case, we ’ll be no better off than here.” 

“ There is land on the other side, though I think not near. 
But we must keep on towards it, else we shall never escape 
from the Gapo. If we stay here, we must starve, or suffer 
greatly. We might search the forest for months, and not 
find another nesting-place of the araras, or good food of any 
kind. Take my advice, patron. Soon as comes the light of 
to-morrow, let us cross to the open water. Then you can 
see for yourself what is best for us to do.” 

As the perilous circumstances in which they were placed 
had altogether changed the relationship between Trevannion 
and his tapuyo , the latter being now the real “patron,” of 
course the ex-miner willingly gave way to him in every thing; 
and on the morning of the next day the party of adventurers 
forsook the Brazil-nut, and proceeded towards the open 
Gapo. 


CHAPTER XLY. 

THE JACANAS. 

I T will be asked how they proceeded. To swim to the 
open water would have been next to impossible, even 
with the assistance of the floats. Not only would the -thick 
tree-trunks and drooping lliauas have hindered them from 
making way in any direction; but there would have been 
nothing to guide them through the shadowy water, and they 
must soon lose themselves in a labyrinth of gloom. Na sign 
of the sky could have availed them in the deep darkness be¬ 
low ; and there were no landmarks to which to trust. The 
answer is, that they made their way along much as*did the 



THE JACANAS. 


137 


monkeys which had passed them the day before, only that 
their pace was a hundred times slower, and their exertions a 
thousand tir&es more laborious. In fact, they travelled among 
the tree-tops, and followed the same track which their ex¬ 
plorers had already taken, and which Munday, on his return, 
had taken the precaution to “ blaze ” by breaking a number 
of twigs and branches. 

Their progress was of the slowest kind, — slower than the 
irawl of a cripple ; but by dint of perseverance, and the per¬ 
formance of many feats in climbing and clinging and balanc¬ 
ing, and general gymnastics, they succeeded at length in 
reaching the edge of the forest, and gaining a view of the 
wide watery expanse. It was a relief to their eyes, so long 
strained to no purpose amidst the shadowy foliage that had 
enveloped them. 

“Now, Munday,” asked Trevannion, as soon as be had 
recovered breath, after such laborious exertion, “ we are here 
on the edge of the open water. You talk of our being able 
to swim across it. Tell us how.” 

“Just as we swam the igarape.” 

“ Impossible, as you’ve admitted it can’t be less than ten 
miles to the other side. The tree-tops yonder are scarce dis¬ 
cernible.” 

“ We came nearly as far along the canoe-path.” 

“ True; but then we bad a chance to rest every few min¬ 
utes, and that gave us strength to go on. It will be different 
if we attempt to cross this great sea, where there is no rest¬ 
ing-place of any kind. We should be a whole day on the 
water, perhaps more.” 

“ Perhaps so, patron. But remember, if we do not try to 
get out of the Gapo, we may be three, four, five, or six 
months among these tree-tops. We may get no food but a 
few nuts and fruits, — scarcely enough to keep us alive. We 
may lose strength, and be no longer able to stay among the 
branches ; we may grow faint and fall, one by one, into the 


138 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


water, to go down to the bottom of the Gapo or drop into the 
jaws of the jacares.” 

* The alternative thus brought in terrible detail vividly 
before them produced a strong impression ; and Trevannion 
offered no objection to any plan which the Mundurucii should 
propose. He only requested a fuller account of the feasibil¬ 
ity of that now suggested, — in other words, an explanation 
as to how they were to swim a stretch of ten miles without 
stopping to rest. 

Munday made no mystery of the matter. He had no other 
plan than that already tried with success, — the swimming- 
belts ; only that two additional sets would now be needed, — 
one for himself, the other for the young Paraense. On the 
short passage from the sapucaya to the forest, and along the 
canoe-path, these bold swimmers had disdained the use of 
that apparatus; but in a pull of ten miles, even they must 
have recourse to such aid. 

No further progress was to be made on that day, as the 
fatigue of their arboreal journey required a long rest; and 
shortly after their arrival upon the edge of the forest, they 
set about arranging for the night, having chosen the best tree 
that could be found. Unfortunately, their larder was lower 
than it had ever been, since the going down of the galatea. 
Of the squab macaws there were no longer any left; and 
some sapucaya-nuts gathered by the way, and brought along 
by Munday, formed the substance of their scanty supper. 

As soon as it was eaten, the Mundurucii, assisted by Rich¬ 
ard, busied himself in manufacturing the required swimming- 
belts ; and long before the sun disappeared behind the forest 
spray, everything was ready for their embarkation, which 
was to take place at the earliest moment of its reappearance. 

As usual, there was conversation, — partly to kill time, and 
partly to keep off the shadows that surrounded, and ever threat¬ 
ened to reduce them to despair. Tre\annion took pains tc 
keep it up, and make it as cheerful as the circumstances 


THE JACANAS. 


139 


would permit, his object being less to satisfy himself than to 
provide gratification for his children. At times he even at¬ 
tempted to jest; but generally the conversation turned upon 
topics suggested by the scene, when the Indian, otherwise 
taciturn, was expected to do the talking. The open water 
became the subject on this particular occasion. 

“ It appears like a lake,” remarked the ex-miner. “ I can 
see a line of trees or tree-tops all around it, with no signs of 
a break or channel.” 

“ It is one, ’ rejoined the tapuyo. “ A real lagoa. Water 
in it at all seasons, — both echente and vasante, — only’t is 
fallen now from the flood. There are no campos in this 
part of the country ; and if it was n’t a lagoa, there would be 
trees standing out of it. But I see a surer sign, — the 
piosocas.” 

The speaker pointed to two dark objects at some distance 
off, that had not hitherto been observed by any of the party. 
On more careful scrutiny, they proved to be birds, — large, 
but of slender shape, and bearing some resemblance to a 
brace of cranes or curlews. They were of dark color, rufous 
on the wings, with a green iridescence that glistened brightly 
under the beams of the setting sun. 

They were near enough to enable the spectators to dis¬ 
tinguish several peculiarities in their structure ; among oth¬ 
ers a singular leathery appendage at the base of the beak, 
stout, spinous processes or “ spurs ” on the wing shoulders, 
very long, slender legs, and tarsi of immense length, radiat¬ 
ing outward from their shank, like four pointed stars, spread 
horizontally on the surface of the water. 

What struck the spectators, not only with surprise, but ap¬ 
peared unaccountable, was the fact that these birds seen upoD 
the water were not seated as if swimming or afloat; but 
standing erect upon their long tarsi and toes, which appar¬ 
ently spread upon the surface, as if upon ice! 

Stranger still, while they were being watched, both went 


140 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


seen to forsake their statue-like attitude, and move first to¬ 
ward each other, and then apart again, running to and fro as 
if upon a solid footing! What could it all mean ? Munday 
was asked for the explanation. Were they walking upon the 
water ? 

No. There was a water plant under their feet — a big 
lily, with a leaf several feet in diameter, that floated on the 


surface — sufficient to carry the weight of the biggest bird 
That was what was supporting the piosocas. 

On scanning the surface more carefully, they could distin- 















THE JACANAS. 


141 


finish the big lily, and its leaf with a turned-up edge resem¬ 
bling the rim of a Chinese gong, or a huge frying-pan. They 
became acquainted for the first time with that gigantic lily, 
wdiich has been entitled “ the Royal Victoria,” and the dis¬ 
coverer of which was knighted for his flattery. 

“ ’ T is the furno de piosoca ,” said Munday, continuing hi? 
explanation. “It is called so, because, as you see, it’s like 
the oven on which we bake our Cassava; and because it is 
the favorite roost of the piosoca.” 

By “ piosoca ” the Indian meant the singular jacana of the 
family Palamedeidce , of which there are species both in Afri¬ 
ca and America. 

The birds had fortunately made their appearance at a cri¬ 
sis when the spectators required something to abstract their 
thoughts from the cares that encompassed them, and so much 
were they engrossed by the curious spectacle, that they did 
not perceive the tapuyo, as he let himself gently down into the 
water, and swam off under the drooping branches of the trees, 
pausing at a point opposite to where the piosocas were at play. 

From this point they could not have perceived him, as he 
had dived under water, and did not come up again until the 
slender shanks of a jacana, enveloped in the lily’s soft leaf, 
were clutched by his sinewy fingers, and the bird with a shrill 
scream was seen fluttering on the water, while its terrified 
mate soared shrieking into the air. 

The party in the tree-tops were at first amazed. They 
saw a dark, round object close to the struggling jacana, that 
resembled the head of a human being, whose body was under 
water! It was not till it had come nearer, the bird still keep¬ 
ing it close company, that they identified the head, vrith its 
copper-colored face, now turned towards them, as belonging 
to their guide and companion, — Munday. A fire was soon 
blazing in the branches, and instead of going to sleep upon a 
supper of raw sapucayas, our adventurers sought repose after 
a hearty meal made upon roast jacana! 


142 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XL VI. 

X COMPANION LEFT BEHIND. 

B Y daybreak they were once more in the water, each pro¬ 
vided with a complete set of swimming-shells. As the 
voyage was more extensive, and altogether more perilous, the 
greatest pains was taken to have the swimming apparatus as 
perfect as possible. Any flaw, such as a weak place in the 
waist-belts or shoulder-straps, or the smallest crevice that 
would admit water into one of the shells, might be followed 
by serious consequences, perhaps even drowning. Besides 
making the new belts, therefore, Munday had mended the old 
ones, giving all the shells an additional coating of caoutchouc, 
and strengthening the sipos that attached them to one an¬ 
other. 

Just as the sun’s disk was seen above the tree-tops that 
skirted the lagoa on the east, our adventurers embarked on 
their aquatic expedition. But it could not be said that they 
started in high spirits. They knew not what was to be the 
sequel of their singular undertaking. Where their journey 
was to end, or whether its end might not be for some of their 
number — if not all of them — the bottom of the Gapo. 

Indeed, the Indian, to whom they all looked for encourage¬ 
ment as well as guidance, was himself not very sanguine of 
success. He did not say so, but for all that Trevannion, who 
had kept interrogating him at intervals while they were pre¬ 
paring to start, had become impressed with this belief. As 
the Mundurucu persisted in counselling the expedition, he did 
not urge any further opposition, and under the auspices of a 
glorious tropical sunrise they committed themselves to the 
open waters of the lagoa. 

At the very start there occurred a somewhat ominous acci¬ 
dent. As the eoaita would have been a cumbersome compan- 




A COMPANION LEFT BEHIND. 14S 

ton for any of the swimmers to carry, it was decided that the 
creature should be left behind. Unpleasant as it was to part 
with a pet so long in the company of the galatea’s crew, there 
was no alternative but to abandon it. 

Tipperary Tom, notwithstanding his attachment toward it, 
or rather its attachment toward him, was but too willing to 
assent to the separation. He had a vivid recollection of his 
former entanglement, and the risk he had run of being either 
drowned in the Gapo, or strangled by the coaita’s tail; and 
with this remembrance still fresh before his fancy, he had 
taken the precaution at this new start to steal silently off 
from the trees, among the foremost of the swimmers. Every¬ 
body in fact had got off, before the coaita was aware of their 
intention to abandon it, and to such a distance that by no 
leap could it alight upon anybody’s shoulders. On perceiv¬ 
ing that it was left behind, it set up a series of cries, painfully 
plaintive, but loud enough to have been heard almost to the 
limits of the lagoa. 

A similar desertion of the macaw was evidently intended, 
to which no one had given a thought, although it was Rosa’s 
pet. The ouistiti had been provided with a free passage upon 
the shoulders of the young Paraense. But the huge parrot 
was not to be left behind in this free and easy fashion. It 
was not so helpless as the coaita. It possessed a pair of strong 
wings, which, when strongly and boldly spread, could carry it 
clear across the lagoa. Conscious of this superior power, it 
did not stay long upon the trees, to mingle its chattering with 
the screams of the coaita. Before the swimmers had made 
a hundred strokes, the macaw mounted into the air, flew for a 
while hoveringly above them, as if selecting its perch, and then 
dropped upon the negro’s head, burying its claws in his tangled 
hair. 


144 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XL VII. 

THE GUIDE ABANDONED. 

A S the swimmers proceeded, their hopes grew brighter. 
They saw that they were able to make good headway 
through the water; and in less than an hour they were a 
full mile distant from their point of departure. At thn 
rate they should be on *he other side of the lagoon befoie 
sunset, if their strength would only hold out. The voyage 
promised to be prosperous ; and joy sat upon their counte¬ 
nances. v 

Shortly after the^o eeme a .change. A cloud was seen steal¬ 
ing over the brow oF the Mundurucu, which was the cue for 
every other to exhibit a similar shadowing. Trevannion 
kept scanning 'lie countenance of the tapuyo to ascertain 
the cause of his disquietude. He made no inquiry; but 
he could tell by the behavior of the Indian that there 
was trouble on his mind. At intervals he elevated his 
head above the water, and looked back over his shoulder, 
as if seeking behind him for the cause of his anxiety. As 
they swam on farther, Munday’s countenance lost nothing of 
its anxious cast, while his turnings and backward glances 
became more frequent. Trevannion also looked back, though 
only to ascertain the meaning of the tapuyo’s manoeuvres. 
He could see nothing to account for it, — nothing but the 
tree-tops from which they had parted, and these every moment 
becoming less conspicuous. Though the patron did not perceive 
it, this was ju^t what was causing the tapuyo’s apprehensive 
looks. The sinking of the trees was the very thing that 
was producing his despondency. 

Stimulated less by curiosity than alarm, Trevannion could 
keep silent no longer. “ Why do you look back, Munday ? ” 
he inquired. “ Is there any danger in that direction ? Hav«j 


THE GUIDE ABANDONED. 


145 


you a fear that we shall be followed ? I can see nothing ex* 
oept the tree'*ops, and them scarcely at this moment.” 

“ That’s the danger. We shall soon lose sight of them alto 
gether; and then — ” 

“ What then ? ” 

“ Then — I confess, patron, I am puzzled. I did not think 
of it before we took to the water.” 

“ O, I see what you mean. You’ve been hitherto guiding 
our course by the trees from which we parted. When they 
are no longer in view we shall have nothing to steer by ? ” 
u It is true. The Great Spirit only can guide us then ! ” 
The Mundurucu evidently felt more than chagrin that he 
had expressed himself so confidently about their being able 
to cross the lagoon. He had only taken into consideration 
the circumstance of their being able to swim, without ever 
thinking of the chance of their losing the way. The trees 
sinking gradually to the horizon first admonished him; and 
as he continued to swim farther into the clear water, he 
became convinced that such mischance was not only possi¬ 
ble, but too probable. With a sort of despairing effort he 
kept on with even more energy than before, as if trying how 
far he could follow a straight line without depending on any 
object to pilot him. 

After proceeding thus for two or three hundred yards, he 
once more raised his chin to his shoulder and looked back. 
The tree-tops were barely visible; but he was satisfied on 
perceiving that the one from which they had started rose 
up directly opposite to him, thus proving that in his trial 
Stretch he had gone in a straight line, inspiring him with 
the hope of being able to continue it to the opposite side. 
With renewed confidence he kept on, after uttering a few 
phrases of cheer to the others. 

Another stretch of about three hundred yards was passed 
through in silence, and without any incident to interrupt 
the progress of the swimmers. Then all came to a pause, 


146 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


seeing their conductor, as before, suspend his stroke, and 
again make a rearward reconnoissance. This time he did 
not appear so well satisfied, until he had raised his head 
high over the surface, which he accomplished by standing 
erect, and beating the water with his palms downward, when 
his confidence was again refreshed, and he started forward 
once more. 

At the next stopping-place, instead of raising himself once 
into the standing poise, he did so several times in succession, 
each time sinking down again with an exclamation of disap¬ 
pointment. He could not see the trees, even at the utmost 
Stretch of his neck. With a grunt that seemed to signify his 
assent to the abandoning of their guidance, he again laid 
himself along the water, and continued in the direction he 
had been already following; but not before assuring himself 
that he was on the right course, which fortunately he was 
still able to do by noting the relative positions of the others. 

At starting away from this, which he intended should be 
their last stopping-place, he delivered a series of admonitions 
intended for every swimmer. They were to keep their 
places, that is, their relative positions to him and one an¬ 
other, as nearly as might be; they were to swim gently and 
-slowly, according to the example he should set them, so that 
they might not become fatigued and require to pause for rest; 
and, above all, they were not to bother him by putting ques¬ 
tions, but were, in short, to proceed in perfect silence. He 
did not condescend to explain these strange injunctions fur¬ 
ther than by telling them that, if they were not followed, and 
to the letter, neither he nor they might ever climb into an¬ 
other tree-top! 

It is needless to say that, after such an intimation, hia 
orders received implicit obedience; and those to whom he 
had given them swam onward after him as silently as so 
many fishes. The only sound heard was the monotonous 
sighing of the water, seething against the hollow sapucaya- 





i 




































































































































% 






# 






4 


* 









• * 









ROUND AND ROUND. 


147 


shells, now and then raided by the scream of the caracara 
eagle, as it poised itself for a second over their heads, in 
surprise at the singular cohort of aquatic creatures moving so 
mysteriously through the lagoons. 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 


ROUND AND ROUND. 



OR a full hour our adventurers preserved, not only their 


relative positions, but also the silence that had been 
enjoined upon them. None of them spoke, even when a 
dead guariba — that had been drowned, perhaps, by attempt¬ 
ing a leap too great for its strength and agility — came drift¬ 
ing along among them. Not one of them took any notice of 
it except the ouistiti upon the shoulders of Richard Trevan- 
nion. This diminutive quadrumanous specimen, on recogniz 
ing the body of one of its big kinsmen, entered upon a series 
of chatterings and squeakings, trembling all the while as if 
suddenly awakened to the consciousness that it was itself in 
danger of terminating its existence in a similar manner. 

Its cries were not heeded. Munday’s admonition had 
been delivered in a tone too serious to be disregarded; and 
the ouistiti was permitted to utter its plaint, without a single 
word being addressed to it, either of chiding or consolation. 
Tranquillity was at length restored, for the little ape, seeing 
that no notice was taken of it, desisted from its noisy demon¬ 
strations, and once more the swimmers proceeded in silence. 

Half an hour or so might have elapsed before this silence 
received a second interruption. It again came in the voice of 
the ouistiti; which, rearing itself on its tiny hind-legs, having 
the shoulders of the Paraense for a support, craning its head 



148 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


outward over the water, commenced repeating its cries of 
alarm. In seeking for an explanation of this conduct, ihey 
contented themselves with watching the movements of the 
alarmist, and by turning their eyes towards the object which 
appeared to attract the ouistiti and cause it such evident 
alarm. Each buoyed himself up to get a good view ; and 
each, as he did so, saw scarce ten paces ahead of him the car¬ 
cass of a guariba! It was drifting towards them in the same 
manner as the one they had already met; and before any of 
them thought of exchanging speech, it was bobbing about in 
their midst. 

The reflection that occurred to the swimmers was, that 
there had been a general drowning among the guaribas some¬ 
where on the shores of the lagoon: perhaps a tribe had got 
into some isolated tree, where their retreat had been cut off 
by the inundation. Had the tapuyo not been of the party, 
this theory might have satisfied all hands, and the journey 
would have been continued, instead of being suddenly inter¬ 
rupted by the tapuyo himself. He was not so easily deceived. 
On passing the first guariba, although he had said nothing, he 
had carefully noted the peculiarities of the carcass; and as 
soon as he swam within distinguishing distance of the second 
guariba, he saw that the pair were identical. In other words, 
our adventurers had for the second time encountered the same 
unfortunate ape. 

There could be but one conclusion. The carcass could not 
have changed its course, unless by the shifting of the wind, 
or the current of the water. But neither would have ex¬ 
plained that second rencontre. It was only intelligible upon 
the supposition that the swimmers had been going round and 
round and returning on their own track 1 


GOING BY GUESS. 


149 


CHAPTER XLIX. 


GOING BY GUESS. 


LTHOUGH their guide was the first to discover it, he 



J~\ did not attempt to conceal the dilemma into which he 
bad been instrumental in leading them. “’T is true, patron !” 
he said, addressing himself to Trevannion, and no longer re¬ 
quiring compliance with his former regulations. “ We have 
gone astray. That’s the same monkey we met before; so 
you see we ’re back where we were a half-hour ago. Pa 
terra l It’s crooked luck, patron ; but I suppose the Great 
Spirit wills it so!” 

Trevannion, confounded, made scarcely any reply. 

“We mustn’t remain here anyhow,” pursued the Indian. 
“We must try to get to the trees somewhere, — no matter 
where.” 

“ Surely,” said the ex-miner, “ we can accomplish that ? ” 

“ I hope so,” was the reply of the tapuyo, given with no 
great confidence. 

Trevannion reflected that they had been swimming in a 
circle . Should this occur again7— and there was every pos¬ 
sibility of such a thing, — the desired end might not be so 
easy of accomplishment. 

For some minutes speculation was suspended. The guide 
was engaged in action. Like a water-spaniel in search of a 
winged wild-duck, he repeatedly reared himself above the 
surface, casting glances of interrogation to every quarter of 
the compass. Like the same spaniel, when convinced that 
the wounded bird has escaped him, he at length desisted from 
these idle efforts; and, laying his body along the water, pre¬ 
pared to swim disappointedly to the shore. 

With something more than disappointment — something 
more than chagrin — did Munday commence retreating from 


150 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the lagoon. As he called upon his companions to follow him, 
there was a tremor in his voice, and an irresolution in his 
stroke perceptible to the least observant of them; and the 
fact of his having shouldered the dead guariba, after first 
making inspection to see that it was fit for food, was proof of 
his entertaining some suspicion that their voyage might be a 
long one. No one questioned him; for notwithstanding the 
failure of his promise to guide them straight across the la¬ 
goon, they still relied upon him. On whom or what else 
could they rely ? 

After proceeding a considerable distance, he came to a 
pause, once more stood up in the water, and, turning as upon 
a pivot, scanned the circle of the horizon. Satisfied that 
there was not a tree-top within view, he swam onward as 
before. Could he have insured keeping a straight course, no 
great danger need have been apprehended. The lagoon 
might be ten miles wide; or, if twenty, it could not so mate¬ 
rially affect the result. Swim as slowly as they might, a 
score of hours would see them on its shore, — whether this 
was the spray of another submerged forest, or the true terra 
firma. There was no danger of their going to the bottom, 
for their swimming-belts secured them against that. - There 
was no danger of their suffering from thirst, — the contingen¬ 
cy most dreaded by the castaway at sea, and the strayed trav¬ 
eller in the desert, — of fresh water they had a surfeit. Nor 
did hunger dismay them. Since eating the jaeana, they had 
<et forth upon a breakfast of Brazil-nuts, — a food which, 
,rom its oily nature, may be said to combine both animal and 
vegetable substance. Moreover, they were no\V no longer 
unprovided against a future emergency: since their guide 
carried upon his shoulders the carcass of the guariba. 

Their real danger lay in their deviating frcm a right line : 
for who could swim straight, with his eyes on a level with 
the surface of the water, and nothing to direct his course, 
neither tree, nor rock, nor star, nor signal of any kind? The 


GOING BY GUESS. 


151 


tapuyo knew this. So did they all. Even the children could 
tell that they were no longer guided, but going by guess¬ 
work. It was no longer a question of getting across the la¬ 
goon, but out of it. The unsteady movements of their guide, 
instead of allaying their fears, produced the contrary effect, 
and the disconsolate expression on his countenance was evi¬ 
dence that he was under much apprehension. 

For over an hour this uncertainty continued. The swim¬ 
mers, one and all, were * beginning to give way to serious 
alarm. To say nothing of reaching land, they might never 
more set eyes upon the submerged forest. They might swim 
round and round, as in the vortex of Charybdis, until sheer 
exhaustion should reduce them utterly. In due time hunger 
must overtake them; and a lingering death by starvation 
might be their destiny. When faint from want of food and 
unable to defend themselves, they would be attacked by 
predatory creatures dwelling in the water, while birds of 
prey would assail them from the air. Already could they 
fancy that the cry of the caracara sounded more spiteful than 
was its wont; and exultingly, as if the base bird foreboded 
for them a tragical ending. 

More than twenty times had the tapuyo repeated his in 
spection of the horizon, without seeing aught to cheer him. 
They had been many hours in the water, and supposed it to 
be about noon. They could only conjecture as to the time, 
for the sun was not visible. At an early hour in the morn¬ 
ing — almost as they started — the sky had become overcast 
with a sheet of leaden gray, concealing the sun’s disk from 
their sight. This circumstance had caused some discourage¬ 
ment; but for it they might long since have escaped from 
their dilemma, as the golden luminary, while low down, 
would have served them as a guide. 

Strange to say, at that hour wdien it was no longer of any 
concern to them, the sky became suddenly clear, and the sun 
shone forth with burning brilliance. But his orb w 7 as now in 


J 52 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the zenith, and of no service to point out the quarter of the 
compass. Within the equatorial zone, north, south, east, and 
west were all alike to him at that season of the year and that 
hour of the day. If they could but have the direction of one 
of these points, all would have been well. But the sun gave 
no sign. 

For all that, the Indian hailed his appearance with a grunt 
of satisfaction, while a change came over his countenance 
that could scarce be caused by the mere brightening of the 
sky. Something more than cheerfulness declared itself in 
his dark features, — an expression of renewed hope. 

“ If the sun keep on to show,” said he, in answer to the 
questioning of Trevannion, “ it will be all right for us. Now 
v it’s no good. In an hour from now he ’ll make some shadow. 
Then we shall swim as straight as can be, never fear, patron. 
we shall get out of this scrape before night, — never fear ! ” 

These cheering words were welcome, and produced univer¬ 
sal joy where but the moment before all was gloom. 

“ IJhink, patron,” continued the tapuyo, “ we may as well 
stop swimming for a while, till we see which way the sun 
goes. Then we can make a fresh start. If we keep on now, 
we may be only making way in the wrong direction.” 

The tired swimmers were only too ready to yield compli¬ 
ance to this bit of advice.^ The Mundurucu made one more 
endeavor to catch sight of the tree-tops, and, being still un¬ 
successful, resigned himself to inactivity, and along with the 
rest lay motionless upon the water. 


GUIDED BY A SHADOW 


153 


CHAPTER L. 

GUIDED BY A SHADOW. 

I N this way about an hour was spent; though by no means 
in solemn silence. Perfectly at ease, so far as physical 
comfort was concerned, upon their liquid couch the swimmers 
could converse, as if stretched upon a carpet of meadow- 
grass ; and they passed their time in discussing the chances 
of theii ultimate escape from that cruel situation, to which 
an unlucky accident had consigned them. They were not 
altogether relieved from apprehension as to their present 
predicament. If the sky should become again overcast, they 
would be worse off than ever, since there was the loss of 
time to be considered. All were constantly turning their 
eyes upwards, and scanning the firmament, to see if there 
were any signs of fresh clouds. 

Munday looked towards the zenith with a different de¬ 
sign. He was watching for the sun to decline. In due 
time his watchfulness was rewarded; not so much by ob¬ 
servation of the sun itself, as by a contrivance which de¬ 
clared the course of the luminary, long before it could have 
been detected by the eye. 

Having cautioned the others to keep still, so that there 
should be no disturbance in the water, — otherwise perfectly 
tranquil, — he held his knife in such a way that the blade 
stood up straight above the surface. Taking care to keep it 
in the exact perpendicular, he watched with earnest eye, as a 
philosopher watches the effect of some chemical combination 
In a short time he was gratified by observing a shadow. The ’ 
blade, well balanced, cast an oblique reflection on the water; 
at first, slight, but gradually becoming more elongated, as the 
experiment proceeded. 

Becoming at length convinced that he knew west from 
7 * 


fh4 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


east, the tapuyo restored his knife to its place, and, calling 
to his companions to follow him, he struck off in the direc¬ 
tion pointed out to him by the shadow of the steel. This 
would take the swimmers in an easterly direction; but it 
mattered not what direction so long as it carried them out 
of the lagoon. As they proceeded onward, the guide occa¬ 
sionally assured himself of keeping the same course, by re¬ 
peating the experiment with his knife; but after a time he 
no longer needed to consult his queer sun-dial, having dis¬ 
covered a surer guide in the spray of the forest, which at 
length loomed up along the line of the horizon. 

It was close upon sunset when they swam in among the 
drooping branches, and once more, with dripping skins, 
climbed up into the tops of the trees. Had it not been 
that they were glad to get to any port, they might have felt 
chagrin on discovering that chance had directed them to 
the very same roost where they had perched on the pre¬ 
ceding night. 

The drowned guariba which Munday had carried from 
the middle of the lagoon was roasted, and furnished their 
evening meal; and the epicure who would turn up his nose 
at such a viand has never tasted food under the shadow of 
an Amazonian forest. 


CHAPTER LI. 

AROUND THE EDGE. 

D iscouraged by their failure, our adventurers re¬ 
mained upon their perch till nearly noon of the next 
day, in listless lassitude. The exertions of the preceding day 
had produced a weariness that required more than a night’s 
rest, for not only their bodies, but their spirits were under thr 



ABOUND THE EDGE. 


155 


influence of their long toil, until their state of mind bordered 
upon despondency. As the . hours wore on, and their fatigue 
was gradually relieved by rest, their spirits rose in like pro¬ 
portion ; and before the sun had reached its meridian, the 
instinctive desire of life sprang up within their bosoms, and 
once more they began to consider what steps should be taken 
to prolong it. 

Should they make another attempt to cross the lagoon by 
swimming? What chance would there be of steering in the 
right course, any more than upon the day before ? They 
were just as likely to go astray a second time, and perhaps 
with a less fortunate finale . If again lost amidst the waste 
of waters, they might not be able to get sight of the tree-tops, 
but swim on in circles or crooked turnings, until death, aris¬ 
ing from sheer exhaustion, or want of food, should complete 
their misery. 

Even the Mundurucu no longer urged the course in which 
he had formerly expressed such confidence; and for some 
time he declined giving any advice whatever, — his silence 
and his gloomy looks showing that he felt humiliated by the 
failure of his plan. No one thought of reproaching him; 
for although their faith in his power was not quite so strong ; 
as it had hitherto been, there was yet confidence in his supe¬ 
rior skill. Had they been castaways from a ship, escaping 
in an open boat, or on soijne raft or spar, in the middle of the 
great ocean, their cook would doubtless have disputed his 
rioht to remain master. But in the midst of that strange in- 
land sea whose shores and islands consisted only of tree-tops, 
the Mozambique acknowledged himself to be no more than a 
novice. 

Trevannion himself took the lead in suggesting the next 
plan. It w'as not intended to give up the idea of crossing the 
lagoon. It w r as a general belief that on the other side there 
must be land; and therefore to reach it became the para¬ 
mount thought of the party. To go around it, by keeping 


156 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


upon the trees, was clearly out of the question. Even had 
these continued all the way with interlacing branches, still 
the journey would have been one that apes alone could per¬ 
form. It would have occupied days, weeks, perhaps a month 
and what certainty was there of finding food for such a length 
of time ? Still, if they could not travel upon the tree-tops, 
what was to hinder them from going under them ? Why 
should they not use the forest to steer by, — swimming along 
the edge of the trees, and making use of them at intervals 
for rest, and for a sleeping-place during the night ? 

The idea was excellent, and, coming from Trevannion him¬ 
self, was of course approved without one opposing voice. 
Even the Indian acknowledged that it was a sagacious de¬ 
sign, and superior to his own. Fortunately it required but 
slight preparation for'trial, and as the sun shone down from 
the zenith they forsook their resting-place, and once more 
betook themselves to the water, with their swimming-belts 
carefully adjusted again about them. 


CHAPTER LII 


THE MASSARANDUBA 



HEY advanced at the rate of about a mile an hour. 


JL Could they have kept on steadily, this would have 
given them ten or twelve miles a day, and two or three days 
might have brought them to the other side of the lagoon. It 
was necessary, however, that they should stop at intervals to 
obtain rest; and their progress was further impeded by the 
piosoca plants, — the huge water-lilies already described, —• 
whose broad, circular leaves, lying along the surface like gi¬ 
gantic frying-pans, came directly in their course. Here and 



THE MASSARANDUBA 


157 


there they had to traverse a tract of these lilies several acres 
in extent, where the rims of the rounded leaves almost 
touched each other; and the thick succulent stalks formed a 
tangle underneath, through which it was very difficult for a 
swimmer to make way. More than once they were com¬ 
pelled to go around these w T atery gardens for a distance of 
many hundreds of yards, but thus shortening the journey 
made in the right direction. 

On account of such impediments they had not gone more 
than three miles from their point of starting, when the Mun- 
durucii recommended a halt for the night, although it could 
not have been later than six o’clock, as could be told by the 
sun, still high up in the heavens. 

“ I am hungry, patron,” said the Indian at last; “ so are 
you all. We must have some supper, else how can we go 
on?” 

“ Supper ! ” echoed Trevannion. “ Yes, sure enodgh, we 
are hungry. I knew that an hour ago. But upon what do 
you propose to sup ? I see nothing but trees with plenty of 
leaves, but no fruit. We cannot live upon leaves like the 
sloth. We must be starving before we take to that.” 

“We shall sup upon milk, master, if you don’t object to 
our making a camping-place close by.” 

“Milk!” exclaimed Tom. “What div yez say, Misther 
Munday ? Div yez mane milk ? Och ! don’t be after tempt¬ 
in’ wan’s stomach with a dilicacy that can’t be obtained in 
this land av wather ! Shure now we ’re not only a hundred 
moiles from the tail av a cow, but a thousand, may be, from 
that same/’ 

“You may be wrong there,” interrupted the Paraense. 
“ There are cows in the Gapo as well as upon land. You 
have seen them yourself as we came down the river ? ” 

“ Troth, yis,—if yez mane the fish-cow” (the Irishman 
alluded to the Vaca marina , or manatee, — the peixeboi or 
fish-cow of the Portuguese, several species of which inhabit 


158 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the Amazon waters). “ But shure the great brute could not 
be milked, if we did cotch wan av them ; an’ if we did we 
should not take the throuble, when by sthrippin’ the skin av 
her carcass we’d get somethin’ far betther for our suppers, in 
the shape av a fat steak.” 

“ Yonder is what the Mundurucii means! ” said the guide. 
44 Yonder stands the cow that can supply us with milk for our 
supper, — ay, and with bread too to go along with it; don’t 
you see the Massaranduba ? ” 

At first they could see nothing that particularly claimed 
attention. But by following the instructions of the guide 
and raising their heads a little, they at length caught sight 
of a tree, standing at some distance from the forest edge, and 
so far overtopping the others as to appear like a giant among 
pygmies. It was in reality a vegetable giant, — the great 
massaranduba of the Amazon, — one of the most remarkable 
trees to be found even in a forest where more strange species 
abound, than in any other part of the world. To Tom and 
some others of the party the words of the Mundurucu were 
still a mystery. How was a tree to supply them with a sup 
per of bread and milk ? 

Trevannion and Richard required no further explanation. 
The former had heard of this singular tree; the latter had 
seen it, — nay, more, had drank of its milk, and eaten of its 
fruit. It was with great joy the young Paraense now looked 
upon its soaring leafy top, as it not only reminded him of a 
spectacle he had often observed in the woods skirting the sub¬ 
urbs of his native city, but promised, as the tapuyo had de¬ 
clared, to relieve the pangs of hunger, that bad become agoni* 
insrlv keen. 


A VEGETABLE COW. 


169 


CHAPTER L111. 

A VEGETABLE COW. 

T HE tree which had thus determined them to discontinue 
their journey, and which was to furnish them with lodg¬ 
ings for the night, was the famous palo de vaca , or “ cow-tree” 
of South America, known also as the arbol de leche, or “ milk- 
tree.” It has been described by Humboldt under the name 
Galactodendron, but later botanical writers, not contented 
with the very appropriate title given to it by the great stu¬ 
dent of Nature, have styled it Brosium. It belongs to the 
natural order of the Atrocarpads , which, by what might ap¬ 
pear a curious coincidence, includes also the celebrated bread¬ 
fruit. What may seem stranger still, the equally famous 
upas-tree of Java is a scion of the same stock, an atrocarpadl 
Therefore, just as in one family there are good boys and bad 
boys, (it is to be hoped there are none of the latter in yours,) 
so in the family of the atrocarpads there are trees producing 
food and drink both wholesome to the body and delicious to 
the palate, while there are others in whose sap, flowers, and 
fruit are concealed the most virulent of poisons. 

The massaranduba is not the only species known as pah 
de vaca , or cow-tree. There are many others so called, 
whose sap is of a milky nature. Some yield a milk that is 
pleasant to the taste and highly nutritious, of which the “ hya- 
hya” ( Taberncemontana utibis ), another South American 
tree, is the most conspicuous. This last belongs to the order 
of the Apocyance , or dog-banes, while still another order, the 
Sapotacce, includes among its genera several species of cow- 
tree. The massaranduba itself was formerly classed among 
the Sapotads. 

It is one of the largest trees of the Amazonian forest, fre 
quently found two hundred feet in height, towering above the 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST, 


160 


other trees, with a top resembling an immense vegetable 
dome. Logs one hundred feet long, without a branch, have 
often been hewn out of its^runk, ready for the saw-mill. Its 
timber is very hard and fine grained, and will stand the 
weather better than most other South American trees; but 
it cannot be procured in any great quantity, because, like 
many other trees of the Amazon, it is of a solitary habit, only 
two or three, or at most half a dozen, growing within the cir¬ 
cuit of a mile. 

It is easily distinguished from trees of other genera by its 
reddish, ragged bark, which is deeply furrowed, and from a 
decoction of which the Indians prepare a dye of a dark red 
color. The fruit, about the size of an apple, is full of a rich 
juicy pulp, exceedingly agreeable to the taste, and much rel¬ 
ished. This is the bread which the Mundurucu hoped to pro¬ 
vide for the supper of his half-famished companions. 

But the most singular, as well as the most important, 
product of the massaranduba is its milky juice. This is 
obtained by making an incision in the bark, when the white 
sap flows forth in a copious stream, soon filling a calabash 
or other vessel held under it. On first escaping from the 
tree it is of the color and about the consistency of rich 
cream, and, but for a slightly balsamic odor, might be mis¬ 
taken for the genuine produce of the dairy. After a short 
exposure to the air it curdles, a thready substance forming 
upon the surface, resembling cheese, and so called by the 
natives. When diluted with water, the coagulation does not 
so rapidly take place; ana it is usually treated in this man¬ 
ner, besides being strained, before it is brought to the table. 
The natives use it by soaking their farinha or maize-bread 
with the sap, and it is also used as cream in tea, chocolate, 
and coffee, many people preferring it on account of the bal¬ 
samic flavor which it imparts to these beverages. 

The milk of the massaranduba is in great demand through¬ 
out all the district where the tree is found, both in tin 


A MILK SUPPER. 


161 


Spanish and Portuguese territories of tropical South Amer¬ 
ica. In Venezuela it is extensively used by the negroes, and 
it has been remarked that these people grow fatter during 
the season of the year when the palo de vaca is plenty. 
Certain it is that no ill effects have been known to result 
from a free use of it; and the vegetable cow cannot be re¬ 
garded otherwise than as one of the most singular and in¬ 
teresting productions of beneficent Nature. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

A MILK SUPPER. 

I T was some time before they swam under the massaran- 
duba’s wide*spreading branches, as it did not stand on 
the edge of the forest, and for a short time after entering 
among the other trees it was out of sight. The instincts 
of the Indian, however, directed him, and in due time it 
again came before their eyes, its rough reddish trunk rising 
out of the water like a vast ragged column. 

As might have been expected, its huge limbs were laden 
with parasites, trailing down to the surface of the water 
By these they found no difficulty in making an ascent, and 
were soon safely installed; its huge coreaceous leaves of 
oblong form and pointed at the tops, many of them nearly 
a foot in length, forming a shade against the fervent rays of 
the sun, still several degrees above the horizon. 

As the Indian had anticipated, the tree was in full bear¬ 
ing, and erelong a number of its apples were plucked, and 
refreshing the parched palates that would have pronounced 
them exquisite had they been even less delirious than they 
were. Munday made no stay even to taste the fruit, lie 



AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


162 

was determined on giving his companions the still rarei 
treat he had promised them, a supper of milk; and not unti 1 
he had made some half-dozen notches with his knife, and 
placed under each a sapucaya-shell detached from the swim¬ 
ming-belts, did he cease his exertions. 

They had not long to wait. The vegetable cow proved a 
free milker, and in twenty minutes each of the party had a 
pericarp in hand full of delicious cream, which needed no 
sugar to make it palatable. They did not stay to inquire 
how many quarts their new cow could give. Enough for 
them to know that there was sufficient to satisfy the appetites 
of all for that night. 

When, after supper, the conversation naturally turned to 
the peculiarities of this remarkable tree, many other facts 
were elicited in regard to its useful qualities. Richard told 
them that in Para it was well known, its fruit and milk being 
sold in the streets by the negro market-women, and much 
relished by all classes of the inhabitants of that city ; that its 
sap was used by the Paraense joiners in the place of glue, 
to which it was equal, if not superior, guitars, violins, and 
broken dishes being put together with it in the most effective 
manner, its tenacity holding against both heat and dampness. 
Another curious fact was, that the sap continues to run long 
after the tree has been felled: that even the logs lying in the 
yard of a saw-mill have been known to yield for weeks, even 
months'* the supply required by the sawyers for creaming 
their coffee! 

And now our adventurers, admonished by the setting of the 
sun, were about stretching themselves along the branches, 
with the intention of going to sleep. But they were not to 
retire without an incident, though fortunately it was such as 
to add to the cheerfulness lately inspiring the spirits of all, 
even to the macaw and little monkey, both of whom had am 
ply regaled themselves upon the succulent fruits of the mao 
saranduba. The great ape, again left behind, had been alto 


ONLY A DEAD-WOOD. 


1fi3 

gether forgotten. No one of the party was thinking of it; 
or, if any one was, it was only with a very subdued regret, 
All knew that the coaita could take care of itself, and under 
all circumstances it would be safe enough. For all this, they 
would have been very glad still to have kept it in their com¬ 
pany, had that been possible; and all of them were glad 
when a loud chattering at no great distance was recognized as 
the salutation of their old acquaintance, the coaita. Directly 
after, the animal itself was seen springing from tree to tree, 
until by a last long leap it lodged itself on the branches of 
the massaranduba, and was soon after seated upon the shoul¬ 
ders of Tipperary Tom. 

While the swimmers were proceeding by slow stages, the 
ape had kept them company among the tops of the adjacent 
trees; and, but for its being delayed by having to make the 
circuit around the various little bays, it might have been 
astride the vegetable cow long before the swimmers them¬ 
selves. Coming late, it was not the less welcome, and before 
going to sleep it was furnished with a fruit supper, and re¬ 
ceived a series of caresses from Tom, that in some measure 
consoled it for his double desertion. 


CHAPTER LV. ^ 

ONLY A DEAD-WOOD. 

D ESPITE the coarse netting of the hammocks on which 
they were constrained to pass the night, our adventur 
ers slept better than was their wont, from a certain feeling 
of security, — a confidence that God had not forgotten them. 
He who could give them food in the forest could also guide 
them out of the labyrinth into which their own negligeocu 
bad led them. 



J 64 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


A prayer to Him preceded their breakfast on the cieam 
of the cow-tree, and with another they launched themselves 
upon their strings of shells, with renewed confidence, and 
proceeded along the curving selvage of the trees. As before, 
they found their progress impeded by the “ ovens ” of the 
piosoca ; and despite their utmost exertions, at noon they had 
made scarce three miles from their starting-point, for the gi¬ 
gantic tree that had sheltered them was full in sight, and 
even at sunset they could not have been more than six miles 
from it. 

In the-forest about them there appeared no resting-place 
for the night. The trees stood closely together, but without 
any interlacing of branches, or large horizontal limbs upon 
which they might seek repose. For a time it appeared as if 
they would have to spend the night upon the water. This 
was a grave consideration, and the guide knew it. With 
their bodies immersed during the midnight hours, — chill 
even within the tropics, — the consequences might be seriousi 
perhaps fatal. One way or another a lodgement must be ob¬ 
tained among the tree-tops. It was obtained, but after much 
difficulty. The climbing to it was a severe struggle, and the 
seat was of the most uncomfortable kind. There was no 
supper, or comfort of any kind. 

With the earliest appearance of day they were all once 
more in the water, and slowly pursuing their weary way. 
Now slower than ever, for in proportion to their constantly 
decreasing strength the obstruction from the piosocas appeared 
to increase. The lagoon, or at least its border, had become 
a labyrinth of lilies. 

While thus contending against adverse circumstances, an 
object came under their eyes that caused a temporary ab¬ 
straction from their misery. Something strange was lying 
along the water at the distance of about a quarter of a mile 
from them. It appeared to be some ten or twelve yaids in 
length, and stood quite high above the surface. It was of a 


ONLY A DK AD-WOOD. 


Hid 

Bark Irown color, and presented something the appearance of 
a bank of dried mud, with some pieces of stout stakes pro¬ 
jecting upward. Could it be this? Was it a bank or spit 
of land ? 

The hearts of the swimmers leaped as this thought, in¬ 
spired by their wishes, came into every mind. If land, it 
could be only an islet, for there was water all around it, — 
that they could perceive. But if so, an islet, if no bigger 
than a barn-door, would still be land, and therefore welcome. 
They might stretch their limbs upon it, and obtain a good 
night’s rest, which they had not done since the wreck of the 
galatea. Besides an islet ever so small — if only a sand-bar 
or bank of mud — would be a sort of evidence that the real 
dry land was not far off. 

The dark form at first sight appeared to be close in to the 
trees, but Munday, standing up in the water, pronounced it 
to be at some distance from them, — between fifty and a hun¬ 
dred yards. As it was evident that the trees themselves were 
up fo their necks in water, it could hardly be an island. 
Still there might be some elevated spot, a ridge or mound, 
that overtopped the inundation. Buoyed up by this hope, 
the swimmers kept on towards it, every eye scanning intently 
its outlines in order to make out its real character. All at 
once the projections which they had taken for stakes disap¬ 
peared from the supposed spot of mud. They had assumed 
the shape of large wading birds of dark plumage, which, hav¬ 
ing spread their long, triangular wings, were now hovering 
above the heads of the swimmers, by their cries proclaiming 
'bat they were more astonished at the latter than they could 
possibly be at them. 

It was not until they had arrived within a hundred yards 
of the object that its true character was declared. “ Pa Ter 
ra / ” Munday cried, in a sonorous and somewhat sorrowful 
voice, as he sank despairingly upon his breast; — “no island, 
— no bank, — no land of any kind. Only a dead-wood / ” 


166 


AFLOAT IN TILE FOREST. 


“ A dead-wood ! ” repeated the patron, not compi ehending 
vhat he meant, and fancying from the chagrined air of the 
Indian that there might be mischief in the thing. 

“That’s all, master. The carcass of an old Mcinguba , 
that’s been long since stripped of his limbs, and has been 
carried here upon the current of the Gapo ; don’t you see his 
huge shoulders rising above the water ? ” 

Richard proceeded to explain the Indian’s meaning. “ The 
trunk of a dead tree, uncle. It’s the silk-cotton-tree, or man- 
guba, as Munday calls it. I can tell that by its floating so 
lightly on the water. It appears to be anchored, though ; or 
perhaps it is moored among the stalks of the piosocas.” 

The explanation was interrupted by a shout from the In¬ 
dian, whose countenance had all at once assumed an expres¬ 
sion of cheerfulness, — almost joy. The others, as they 
turned their eyes upon him, were surprised at the sudden 
change, for but a moment before they had noticed his de¬ 
spairing look. 

“ The Mundurucii must be mad, patron,” he shouted. 
“ Where is his head ? Gone down to the bottom of the Gapo 
along with the galatea! ” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” inquired Tom, brightening up as 
he beheld the joyful aspect of the Indian. “ Is it dhroy land 
that he sees ? I hope it’s that same.” 

“ What is it, Munday ? ” asked Trevannion. “ Why do you 
fancy yourself insane ? ” 

“ Only to think of it, patron, that I should have been sorry 
to find but the trunk of a tree. The trunk of a tree, — a 
grand manguba, big enough to make a montaria , an igarite , 
— a galatea, if you like,— a great canoe that will carry us 
all! Cry Santos Dios ! Give thanks to the Great Spirit! 
We are saved! — we are saved! ” 

The words of the tapuyo, wild as they migl.t appear, were 
well understood. They were answered by a general shout 
of satisfaction, — for even the youngest of the party could 


THE STERCUL1ADS. 


167 


comprehend that the great log lying near them might bo 
made the means of carrying them clear of the danger? 
with which they had been so long encompassed. 

“True, — true,” said Trevannion. “It is the very thing 
for which we have been searching in vain, — some sort of 
timber that would carry its own weight in the water, and 
us beside. This dead manguba, as you call it, looks as if 
a ton would not sink it a quarter of an inch. Jt will cer¬ 
tainly serve us for a raft. Give thanks to God, children; 
his hand is in this. It fills me with hope that we are yet 
to survive the perils through which we are passing, and that 
I shall live to see old England once more.” 

No flock of jacanas ever created such a commotion among 
the leaves of the Victoria lily as was made at that moment. 
Like frail leaves the thick stems were struck aside by the arms 
of the swimmers, strengthened by the prospect of a speedy 'de¬ 
livery from what but the moment before seemed extremest 
peril; and almost in a moment they were alongside the great 
trunk of the manguba, in earnest endeavor to get upon it. 


CHAPTER LVI. 

THE STERCULIADS. 

I N their attempts at boarding they were as successful as they 
could have expected. The tqp of the gigantic log was full 
six feet above the surface of the water, and there were huge 
buttresses upon it — the shoulders spoken of by Munday — 
that rose several feet higher. By dint of hard climbing, how¬ 
ever, all were at length safely landed. 

After they had spent a few minutes in recovering breath, 
they began to look around them and examine their strange 



168 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREbT. 


craft. It was, as the Indian had alleged, the trunk of a silk- 
cotton-tree, the famed Bombax of the American tropical for* 
ests, — found, though, in many different species, from Mexico 
to the mountains of Brazil. It is known as belonging to the 
order of the Sterculiads, which includes among its genera a 
great number of vegetable giants, among others the baobab 
of Africa, with a stem ninety feet in circumference, though 
the trunk is out of proportion to the other parts of the 
tree. The singular hand-plant of Mexico called Manita is 
a sterculiad, as are also the cotton-tree of India and the 
gum-tragacanth of Sierra Leone. 

The bombax-trees of Tropical America are of several dis¬ 
tinct species. They are usually called cotton or silk-cotton- 
trees, on account of the woolly or cottony stuff between the 
seeds and the outer capsules, which resemble those of the true 
cotton plant ( Gossypium ). They are noted for their great 
size and imposing appearance, more than for any useful 
properties. Several species of them, however, are not with¬ 
out a certain value. Bombax ceiba , and B. monguba, the 
monguba of the Amazon, are used for canoes, a single 
trunk sufficing to make a craft that will carry twenty hogs¬ 
heads of sugar along with its crew of tapuyos. The peculiar 
lightness of the wood renders it serviceable for this pur¬ 
pose ; and there is one species, the ochroma of the West In¬ 
dies, so light as to have been substituted for cork-wood in the 
bottling of wines. 

The silk or cotton obtained from the seed-pods, though ap¬ 
parently of an excellent quality, unfortunately cannot be well 
managed by the spinning-machine. It lacks adhesiveness, 
and does not form a thread that may be trusted. It is, how¬ 
ever, extensively used for the stuffing of couches, cushions, 
and other articles of upholstery; and the Amazonian Indians 
employ it in feathering the arrows of their blow-guns, and for 
several other purposes. 

4 peculiarity of the Sterculiads is their haung buttresses 


CHASED BY TOCANDEIRAS. 


165 


Some are seen with immense excrescences growing out from 
'heir trunks, in the form of thin, woody plates, covered with 
bark just like the trunk itself, between which are spaces that 
might be likened to stalls in a stable. Often these partitions 
rise along the stem to a height of fifty feet. The cottonwood 
(Populus angulata ) and the deciduous cypress of the Missis¬ 
sippi (Taxodium distichuni) partake of this singular habit; 
the smaller buttresses of the latter, known as “cypress 
knees,” furnishing the “cypress hams,” which, under their 
covering of lime-washed canvas, had been sold (so say the 
Southerners) by the Yankee speculator for the genuine 
haunch of the corn-fed hog! 

In spite of its commercial inutility, there are few trees of 
the South American forest more interesting than the manguba. 
It is a conspicuous tree, even in the midst of a forest abound¬ 
ing in types of the yegetable kingdom, strange and beautiful. 
Upon the trunk of such a tree, long since divested of its 
leaves, — stripped even of its branches, its species distin¬ 
guishable only to the eye of the aboriginal observer, — ou'* 
adventurers found a lodgement. 


CHAPTER L V11. 


CHASED BY TOCANDEIRAS. 


mHEIR tenancy was of short continuance. Never did 
J lodger retreat from a shrewish landlady quicker than 
did Trevannion and his party from the trunk of the silk-cot¬ 
ton-tree. That they so hastily forsook a secure resting-place, 
upon which but the moment before they had been so happy 
to plant their feet, will appear a mystery. Strangest of all, 
that they were actually driven overboard by an insect no i 
bigger than air ant! 



170 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


Having gained a secure footing, as they supposed, upon 
the floating tree-trunk, our adventurers looked*around them, 
the younger ones from curiosity, the others to get acquainted 
with the character of their new craft. Trevannion was mak¬ 
ing calculations as to its capability; not as to whether it could 
carry them, for that was already decided, but whether it was 
possible to convert it into a manageable vessel, either with 
sails, if such could be extemporized, or with oars, which 
might be easily obtained. While thus engaged, he was sud¬ 
denly startled by an exclamation of surprise and alarm from 
the Indian. All that day he had been the victim of sudden 
surprises. 

“The Tocandeiras! — the Tocandeiras /he cried, his 
eyes sparkling as he spoke; and, calling to the rest to follow, 
he retreated toward one end of the tree-trunk. 

With wondering eyes they looked back to discover the 
thing from which they were retreating. They could see 
nothing to cause such symptoms of terror as those exhibited 
by their guide and counsellor. It is true that upon the other 
end of the tree-trunk, in a valley-like groove between two 
great buttresses, the bark had suddenly assumed a singular 
appearance. It had turned to a fiery red hue, and had be¬ 
come apparently endowed with a tremulous motion. What 
could have occasioned this singular change in the color of 
the log ? 

“ The Tocandeiras! ” again exclaimed Munday, pointing 
directly to the object upon which all eyes were fixed. 

“ Tocandeiras ? ” asked Trevannion. “ Do you mean those 
little red insects crawling along the log ? ” 

o o o 

“ That, and nothing else. Do you know what they are, 
patron ? ” 

“ I have not the slightest idea, only that they appear tc 
be some species of ant.” 

“That’s just what they are, — ants and nothing else! 
Those are the dreaded Jire-ants . We’ve roused them out 


A LOG THAT WOULD N’T ROLL. 


171 


of their sleep. By our weight the manguba has gone down 
a little. The water has got into their nest. They are 
forced out, and are now spiteful as hungry jaguars. We 
must get beyond their reach, or in ten minutes’ time there 
won’t be an inch of skin on our bodies without a bite and a 
blister.” 

“ It is true, uncle,” said Richard. “ Munday is not ex¬ 
aggerating. If these ugly creatures crawl upon us, and they 
will if we do not get out of the way, they ’ll sting us pretty 
nigh to death. We must leave the log ! ” 

And now, on the way towards the spot occupied by the 
party, was a fiery stream composed of spiteful-looking crea¬ 
tures, whose very appearance bespoke stings and poison. 
There was no help for it but to abandon the log, and take 
to the watgr. Fortunately each individual was still in pos¬ 
session of his string of sapucaya-shells ; and, sliding down 
the side of the log, once more they found themselves among 
the grand gong-like leaves of the gigantic lily. 


CHAPTER L VIII. 

A LOG THAT WOULD n’t ROLL. 

I T now became a question, what they were to do. Aban 
don the log altogether, for a swarm of contemptible in 
sects, not larger than lady-bugs, when, by the merest chance, 
they had found a raft, tin very thing they stood in need of f 
Such a course was not contemplated, — not for a moment. 
On gliding back into the Gapo, they had no idea of swim¬ 
ming away farther than would secure their safety from the 
sting of the insects, as Munday assured them that the fire- 
ants would not follow them into the water. But how regain 
possession of their prize ? 



172 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


The ants were now seen swarming all over it, here and 
there collected in large hosts, seemingly holding council to¬ 
gether, while broad bands appeared moving from one to the 
other, like columns of troops upon the march! There was 
scarce a spot upon the surface of the log, big enough for a 
man to set his foot upon, that was not reddened by the co 
horts of this insect army ! 

“ How shall we dispossess them ? ” inquired Trevannion. 

“ Shure,” said Tipperary Tom, answering as if the appeal 
had been made to him, “ can’t we sit thim on fire, an’ burn 
thim aft the log ? Cud n’t we gather some dry laves out at 
the threes, an’ make a blaze that ’ud soon consume ivery 
mother’s son av thim ? ” 

“ Nonsense, Tom. We should consume the log, as well as 
the ants, and then what would be the advantage to us ? ” 

“ Well, thin, iv yez think fire won’t do, why can’t we thry 
wather ? Lit us thry an’ drownd thim off the log. Munday 
sez they can’t swim, an’ iv they can’t, shure they must ge 
to the bottom.” 

“ How would you do it ? ” asked Trevannion, catching at 
the idea suggested by the Hibernian. 

“ Nothing asier. Give the did three a rowl over on its 
back, an’ thin the ants ’ll get undher the wather; an’ won’t 
they have to stay there? Lit us all lay howlt on the log 
an’ see iv we can’t give the swate craythers a duckin’.” 

Convinced that there was good sense in Tom’s counsel, 
swimming back towards the log, they stretched their arms 
upward, and commenced trying to turn it over. The attempt 
proved unsuccessful; Partly from the enormous weight of 
the dead tree, saturated as one half of it was with water, and 
partly owing to the great buttresses acting as outriggers, they 
could only turn it about one tenth part of its 'circumference. 
It rolled back upon them, at first dipping a little deeper, but 
afterwards settling into its old bed. They were about to 
discontinue their efforts when a cry came from Tom, as it 


DROWNING THE TOCANDEIRAS. 


173 


some new source of terror had been discovered in the man- 
guba. Soon each and all found an explanation in their own 
sensations, which were as if they had been sharply stung or 
bitten by some venomous insect. While shouldering the log 
in vain endeavors to capsize it, some scores of the ants had 
been detached from its sides, and fallen upon the bodies of 
the swimmers. Instead of showing gratitude for this tempo¬ 
rary respite from drowning, the spiteful insects had at once 
imbedded their poisoned fangs in their preservers, as if con¬ 
scious that they owed all their misfortunes to the intruders 
who had so rudely disturbed their rest. But when these 
stray ants that had been stinging them were disposed of, their 
attention was once more directed towards the manguba, with 
a still more determinate resolution to repossess what in their 
eyes was more valuable than a selected log of the finest 
Honduras mahogany! 


CHAPTER LIX. 


BROWNING THE TOCANDEIRAS : FIVE MEN IN A FEVER. 

OR a time the brains of our adventurers were busied in 



Jj devising some plan for routing the tocandeiras from 
their floating citadel, of which they now retained sole posses¬ 
sion. At last Tipperary Tom again became the suggester of 
a scheme for dispelling the multitudinous hosts. 

“ If we can’t spill thirn aff the log,” said he, “ we can wather 
thim aff it.” 

“ Not such a bad idea,” said Richard. “ Come on, let us 
surround the trunk, and attack them on all sides and let all 
heave together.” 

The dark mud color that had characterized when first 


174 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


«een, and daring the time while tney were approaching it, 
was now changed to a hue of fiery red, here in spots of patch¬ 
es, there in broad lists or streaks, running irregularly between 
the extremities. Of course the red bands and blotches mot¬ 
tling its sombre surface were the tocandeiras, whose crowded 
battalions were distributed all over it. On closer scrutiny, 
it could be seen that they were in motion, passing to and fro, 
or in places circling around as if in search of the intruders 
who had disturbed them. 

At a word from Trevannion, all the assailants commenced 
heaving up water with the palms of their hands, and the log 
became shrouded under a shower of sparkling drops that fell 
fast and thickly over it, dissipating into a cloud of vapor like 
the spray of a waterfall. Under such a drenching the tocan¬ 
deiras could not possibly retain their hold, however tenacious 
might be their sharp curving claws, and it was but natural 
that thousands of them should soon be swept from the man- 
guba. Their assailants saw it, and, rejoicing at the success 
of their scheme, gave^utterance to triumphant shouts, just like 
boys destroying with hot water a nest of wasps or hornets. 
Louder than all could be heard the voice of Tipperary Tom. 
It was he who had suggested the scheme, and the thought of 
having his character for sagacity thus raised caused his bois¬ 
terous fit of self-congratulation. 

But the splashing suddenly ceased, and the six pairs of 
palms, instead of being turned upward and forward to bale 
water upon the log, were now exerted in the opposite direc¬ 
tion, backward and downward, while the owners of them com¬ 
menced swimming away from the spot; as they went off, 
making vigorous efforts to free themselves from the spiteful 
creatures again clinging to them. Not one of them said a 
word about staying longer by the dead manguba; but, picking 
up little Rosa on the way, they continued their retreat, nci 
paused again until they felt sure of having distrnced the to 
candeiras. 


DROWNING THE TOCANDEIRAS. 


175 


As a matter of course they had retreated towards the tree* 
tops. After so many surprises, accompanied by almost con¬ 
tinuous exertion, they stood in need of rest. Having chosen 
one that could be easily climbed, they ascended to its branches, 
and there seated themselves as comfortably as circumstances 
would permit. On perceiving that the sun was already over 
the meridian, and satisfied, moreover, that the task of getting 
rid of their enemies was one that it might take time to ac¬ 
complish, they determined to remain all night in their new 
situation. But there was a more powerful reason for sus¬ 
pending their journey at this point. They were suffering 
great pain from the stings of the tocandeiras, and, until that 
should be to some extent allayed, they could think of nothing 
else, unless indeed it might be a mode of avenging them¬ 
selves. 

It was fortunate they had found a safe place of repose, 
and that Munday, who suffered less than the rest, preserved 
sufficient composure to make their beds or hammocks of 
sipos, for, in less than twenty minutes after ascending the 
tree, every one of the party, Munday and Rosa excepted, 
found himself in a raging fever from the stings inflicted by 
the tocandeiras, since these bloodthirsty insects not only bite 
as other ants, but have the power of stinging like wasps, only 
that the pain produced by their sting is much greater,—• 
more like that of the black scorpion. 

As the sun went down, a cool breeze began to play over 
A ihe waters of the lagoa ; and this — the fever having burnt 
itself out — restored them to their ordinary health, though 
with a feeling of languor that disinclined them to do anything 
for that night. Stretched upon their rude aerial couches, 
they looked up at the stars, and listened to Munday as he 
made answer to the interrogatories of Trevannion giving an 
account of one of the singular customs of his tribe, — that 
known as the “Festival of the Tocandeiras.” 


176 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER LX. 


\ 


THE FESTIVAL OF THE TOCANDEIRAS. 

HEN a youth of the Mundurucu nation, or its kindred 



TT tribe, the Mahiie, has reached the age for assuming 
the dignities of manhood, he is expected to submit himself to 
an ordeal that well deserves to be called fiery. This more 
especially if the youth’s ambition inclines him to - become a 
warrior or otherwise distinguished in the tribe. The ordeal 
is voluntary; but without undergoing it, the young Mundu¬ 
rucu must consent to an existeribe, if not disgraced, at least 
inglorious; and if not absolutely scorned by the girls of the 
Malocca, he will have but slight chance of winning their 


It must be known to my young readers that a custom pre¬ 
vails among many tribes of North American Indians of sub¬ 
mitting their young men who aspire to become “ braves ” to 
a test of courage and endurance so severe at times as to be a 
torture quite incredible to those unacquainted with the Indi¬ 
an character. You might fancy the South American a very 
trifling affair, compared with the torture of the Mandans and 
other Northern tribes, when you are told that it consists 
simply in the wearing of a pair of gloves, or mittens, for a 
certain length of time, — so long that the wearer can make 
the round of the Malocca, and finish up by an obeisance to 
the tuchao , or chief, who awaits him at the door of his hut. 
But these mittens once described to you, as they were de¬ 
scribed by Munday to his companions on the tree, you will 
perchance change your mind; and regard the Mundurucu cer¬ 
emony as one of the most severe that was ever contrived to 
test the constancy and courage of any aspirant to distinction. 

When the young Mundurucu declares his readiness to put 
on the gloves, a pair of them are prepared for him. Thej! 


THE FESTIVAL OF THE TOCANDEIRAS. 


177 


are manufactured out of the bark of a species of palm-tree, 
and are in fact only long hollow cylinders, closed at one end, 
and large enough to admit the hand and arm up to the elbow. 
Before being drawn on they are half filled with ants of the 
most spiteful and venomous kinds ; but chiefly with tocandei- 
ras, from which the ceremony derives its name. 

Thus accoutred, and accompanied by a crowd with horns, 
drums, and other musical instruments in use among the In¬ 
dians, the candidate for manhood’s rights has to make the 
round of the village, presenting himself before every hut, 
and dancing a jig at every halt that is made. Throughout 
all the performance he must affect signs of great joy, chant¬ 
ing a cheerful strain, loud enough to be heard above the beat¬ 
ing of the drums, the blowing of the horns, and the fracas of 
his noisy followers. Should he refuse to submit to this terri¬ 
ble ordeal, or during its continuance show signs of weakness 
or hesitation, he is a lost man. He will be forever after the 
butt and scorn of his tribe; and there is not a Mundurucu 
girl who will consent to have him for a sweetheart. His 
parents and relatives will also be affected in the event of his 
proving a coward, and he will be regarded as a disgrace to 
the family. 

Stimulated by these thoughts, he enters upon the trial, his 
friends urging him forward with cries of encouragement, 
his parents keeping by his side, and with anxious entreaties 
fortifying him against a failure. He has courageously 
thrust his hands into the fiery gauntlets, and with like cour¬ 
age he must keep them there, until the ceremony is com¬ 
pleted. He suffers cruel torture. Every moment increases 
liia agony. His hands, wrists, and arms feel as if surrounded 
by fire. The insect poison enters his veins. His eyes are 
inflamed. The sweat pours from his skin,—his bosom 
palpitates, — his lips and cheeks grow pale; and yet he 
must not show the slightest acknowledgment of suffering. 
If he does, it will cover him with shame; and he will never 
8* l 


4 


178 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


be permitted to carry the Mundurucu war-*pc«*r, nor impal« 
upon its point the head of his slain enemy. He knows the 
awful fate that must result from failure; and, though stagger 
ing in his steps, he keeps courageously on. At length he 
stands in the presence of the tuchao, seated to receive him. 

Before the chief the ceremony is repeated with .increased 
excitement; the dance is redoubled in vigor, — the chant i9 
louder than ever, — both continuing until his strength fails 
him through sheer exhaustion. His gloves are then re¬ 
moved, and he falls into the arms of his friends. 

He is now surrounded by the young girls of the tribe, 
who fling their arms around him, covering him with kisses 
and congratulations. His sufferings prevent him from appre¬ 
ciating their soft caresses, and breaking away from their em¬ 
brace, he rushes down to the river, and flings his fevered body 
into the grateful current. There remaining until the cool 
water has to some extent alleviated his pain, he comes forth 
and retires to the Malocca, to receive fresh congratulations 
from his fellow-savages. 

He has proved himself of the stuff of which warriors are 
made, and may now aspire to the hand of any Mundurucd 
maiden, and to the glory of increasing the number of those 
hideous trophies that adorn the council-room of the tribe, 
and which have earned for these Indians the distinctive sur¬ 
name of Decapitadores ( Beheaders ). 


CHAPTER LXI. 

AMAZONIAN ANTS. 


S UCCEEDING this thrilling account cf the tocandeir* 
festival, ants continued for a time to form the staple 



AMAZONIAN ANTS 


179 


fubject of conversation, which was not ionfined to the par¬ 
ticular species they had encountered upon the log, but re¬ 
lated to many others that inhabit the forests and carnpos of 
the Amazon valley. Scores of sorts were known to the 
Mundurucu,— all differing from each other, not only in size, 
f.hape, color, and what may be termed personal character¬ 
istics, but also in their modes of life, habits, and dwelling- 
place ; in short, in every particular except those essential 
traits which make them all members of the same family. 

The entomologist who would make a study of ant-life could 
find no better school to pursue it in than the grand valley of 
the Amazon. In all parts of it he will find these insects in 
countless numbers, and in a vast variety of species, — separ¬ 
ated from each-other by all distinctions of classes founded on 
habits of life quite opposed to each other. Some species in¬ 
habit the earth, never descending below its surface. Others 
live under it, in subterranean dwellings, scarce ever coming 
out into the light of day. Others again live above the 
earth, making their home in the hollow trunks of trees; 
while still others lead a more aerial life, building their 
nests among the twigs and topmost branches. 

In their diet there is a still greater range. There are car - 
nivora and herbivora ,— some that feed only on flesh, oth¬ 
ers that confine themselves to vegetable substances. There 
are, moreover, kinds that devour their meat before the life is 
out of it; while other carnivorous species, like the vulture 
among birds, prey only on such carrion as may chance to 
fall in their way, and in search of which their lives seem 
prir, pally to be spent. 

Then there are the vegetable feeders, which not only strip the 
leaves from plants and trees, but destroy every other sort of 
vegetable substance that they may fancy to seize upon. The 
clothes in a chest or wardrobe, the papers in a desk, and the 
books in a library, have all at times been consumed by their 
devastating hosts, when foraging for food, or for material -i out 


180 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST 


cf which to construct their singular dwellings. These dwell 
ings are of as many different kinds as there are species of 
ants. Some are of conical shape, as large as a soldier’s 
tent. Some resemble hillocks or great mounds, extending 
over the ground to a circumference of many yards. Oth¬ 
ers represent oblong ridges, traversed by numerous under¬ 
ground galleries, while some species make their dwellings 
in deep horizontal tunnels, or excavations, often extending 
under the bed of broad rivers. Many kinds lead an arbo¬ 
real life, and their nests may be seen sticking like huge 
excrescences to the trunks of the forest-trees, and as often 
suspended from the branches. 

To give a detailed account of the different kinds of Amazo¬ 
nian ante, — to describe only their appearance and ordinary 
habits, — would require, not a chapter, but a large volume. 
Their domestic economy, the modes of constructing their domi¬ 
ciles, the manner of propagating their species* their social dis¬ 
tinction into classes or castes, the odd relations that exist be¬ 
tween the separate castes of a community, the division of labor, 
their devotion to what some writers, imbued with monarchical 
ideas, have been pleased to term their queen , — who in reality 
is an individual elected for a special purpose, — render these 
insects almost an anomaly in nature. It is not to be expect¬ 
ed that the uneducated Indian could give any scientific ex¬ 
planation of such matters. He only knew that there were 
many curious things in connection with the ants, and their in¬ 
door as well as out-door life, which he had himself observed, 
— and these particulars he communicated. 

He could tell strange tales of the Termites , or white ants, 
which are not ants at all, — only so called from a general re¬ 
semblance to the latter in many of their habits. He dwelt 
longest on the sort called Sanbas , or leaf-carrying ants, of 
which he knew a great number of species, each building its 
hill in a different manner from the others. Of all the species 
of South American ants, perhaps none surprises the stranger 


AMAZONIAN ANTS. 


181 


so much as the eaiiba. On entering a tract of forest, or pass* 
ing a patch of cultivated ground, the traveller will come to a 
place where the whole surface is strewn with pieces of green 
leaves, each about the size of a dime, and all in motion. On 
examining these leafy fragments more closely, he will dis¬ 
cover that each is borne upon the shoulders of a little insect 
not nearly so big as its burden. Proceeding onward he will 
ome to a tree, where thousands of these insects are at work 
cutting the leaves into pieces of the proper size, and flinging 
them down to thousands of others, who seize upon and carry 
them off. On still closer scrutiny, he will observe that all 
this work is being carried on in systematic order, — that 
there are some of the insects differently shaped from the rest, 
— some performing the actual labor, while the others are act¬ 
ing as guards and overseers. Were he to continue his obser¬ 
vation, he would find that the leaves thus transported were not 
used as food, but only as thatch for covering the galleries and 
passages through which these countless multitudes make their 
way from one place to another. He would observe, more¬ 
over, so many singular habits and manoeuvres of the little 
crawling creatures, that he would depart from the spot filled 
with surprise, and unable to explain more than a tenth part 
of what he had seen. 

Continuing his excursion, he would come upon ants differ¬ 
ing from the saiibas not only in species, but in the most essen¬ 
tial characteristics of life. There would be the Ecitons , or 
foraging ants, which instead of contenting themselves by 
feeding upon the luxurious vegetation of the tropics, would 
be met upon one of their predatory forays, — the object of 
their expedition being to destroy some colony of their own 
kind, if not of their own species. It may be that the foraging 
party belong to the species known as Eciton rapax, — the 
giant of its genus, in which many individuals measure a full 
half-inch in length. If so, they will be proceeding in single 
file through the forest, in search of the nests of a defenceless 


182 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


vegetable-feeding ant of the genus Formica. If they have 
ilready found it, and are met on their homeward march to¬ 
wards their own encampment, each will be seen holding in 
its mouth a portion of the mangled remains of some victim 
of their rapacity. 

Again, another species may be met travelling in broad col¬ 
umns, containing millions of individuals, either on the way 
to kill and plunder, or returning laden with the spoil. In 
either case they will attack any creature that chances in their 
way, — man himself as readily as the most defenceless ani¬ 
mal. The Indian who encounters them retreats upon his 
tracks, crying out, “ I'auoca!” to warn his companions be¬ 
hind, himself warned by the ant-thrushes whom he has espied 
hovering above the creeping columns, and twittering their 
exulting notes, as at intervals they swoop down to thin the 
moving legion. 

Of all the kinds of ants known to the Mundurucu, there 
was none that seemed to interest him more than that which 
had led to the conversation, — the tocandeira, or, as the Bra¬ 
zilians term i t, formigade fogo (fire-ant). Munday had worn 
the formidable mittens ; and this circumstance had no doubt 
left an impression upon his mind that the tocandeira was the 
truest representative of spitefulness to be found in the insect 
world. 

Perhaps he was not far astray. Although an ant of ordi¬ 
nary size,—both in this and general appearance not differing 
greatly from the common red ant of England, — its bite and 
sting together are more dreaded than those of any other spe¬ 
cies. It crawls upon the limbs of the pedestrian who passes 
near its haunt, and, clutching his skin in its sharp pineer-like 
jaws, with a sudden twitch of the tail it inserts its venomous 
sting upon the instant, holding on after it has made the 
wound, and so tenaciously that it is often torn to pieces while 
being detached. It will even go out of its way to attack any 
one standing near. And at certain landing places upon s>irf 


THE ANTS STILL EXCITED. 


183 


K the Amazonian rivers, the ground is so occupied with its 
hosts that treading there is attended witli great danger. In 
fact, it is on record that settlements have been abandoned on 
account of the fire-ant suddenly making its appearance, and 
becoming the pest of the place. 

Munday, in conclusion, declared that the tocandeiras were 
dnly found in the dry forests and sandy campos ; that he 
had never before seen one of their swarms in the Gapo, and 
that these in the dead-wood must have retreated thither in 
haste, to escape drowning when caught by the inundation, 
and that the log had been afterwards drifted away by the 
echente. 

Whether this statement was true or not, the ants appeared 
to have made up their minds to stay there, and permit no in¬ 
truders to deprive them of their new, strange domicile,— at 
all events until the vasante might enable them once more to 
set foot upon dry land. 


CHAPTER LXII. 

THE ANTS STILL EXCITED. 

A T break of day the party were all awake; and after re¬ 
freshing themselves with a little cheese — which was 
only some coagulated milk of the massaranduba, preserved in 
sapucaya-shells — they once more turned their attention to 
the floating trunk. To their surprise, it was no longer where 
they had left it! 

There was a fog upon the water, but that was rapidly be¬ 
coming dissipated ; and as the sun peeped over the tree-tops, 
the lagoa was sufficiently free from mist for any dark object 
*3 largo as a man’s head, within a mile’s distance, to be dis- 



184 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


tinguished. The manguba had been left scarce a hundred 
yards from their sleeping-place. Where was it now ? 

“ Yonder! ” said Munday, “ close in by the trees. By our 
splashing in the water, we started it from its moorings among 
the piosocas. There has been a little breeze through the 
night, that has brought it this way. It is now at anchor 
against yonder tree. I should n’t wonder if the ants would 
try to escape from it, and take to the branches above them. 
The dead manguba is not their natural home; nor is the 
Gapo their dwelling-place. The tocandeiras belong on land 
and no one would expect to find them here. They must 
have had their home in the hollow of the log while it was 
lying on dry land. The echente set it afloat while they were 
inside, and the current has carried them far away from their 
own country.” 

So they now turned to ascertain whether Munday’s con 
jectures were true, that the ants had taken to the tree that 
stood over the dead-wood, which was at no great distance; 
and as the sun had now completely dispelled the fog, they 
could see it very distinctly. The tocandeiras were still upon 
it. Their countless hosts were seen moving over its surface 
in all their red array, apparently as much excited as when 
putting to flight the swimmers who had intruded upon them. 

The log, although close to the stem of the standing tree, 
was not in connection with it. Something held it several feet 
off; and as none of the drooping branches reached quite 
down, it was impossible for the insects to reach the tree, al¬ 
though they evidently desired to make this change, as if sud¬ 
denly dissatisfied with their quarters on the drifting trunk, 
and wishing to change them for others less at the mercy of 
the winds and waves. 

As there was something curious in all this, something that 
could not fail to fix the attention of the observer, our adven¬ 
turers remained silent, watching the movements of the insect 
multitude, in hopes that they might find some way of detach. 


THE TAMANDUA. 


185 


ing themselves from the floating log, and leave in peaceable 
and undisputed possession the quarters they appeared so de¬ 
sirous of quitting to those who were equally desirous of enter 
mg upon them. 


CHAPTER LX III. 

THE TAMANDUA: THE ANT-THRUSH. 

fTlRUSTING to the explanation given by the tapuyo, they 

i did not think of inquiring further into the cause of the 
commotion among the ants. While scanning the tree closely, 
several of the party perceived a movement among its branch¬ 
es, and soon after the form of a singular creature that was 
causing it. It was a quadruped, about the size of a raccoon 
nr cat, but of a shape peculiarly its own. Its body was 
long and cylindrical, terminating posteriorly in a round, ta¬ 
pering tail, while its low, flat head, prolonged into a smooth, 
slender muzzle, also tapered nearly to a point. The eyes 
were so small as scarcely to be seen, and the mouth more re¬ 
sembled a round hole than the closing of a pair of jaws. It 
was covered with a dense silky fur, of a uniform length over 
the body, and slightly crisped, so as to give it a woolly as¬ 
pect. This fur was straw-colored, with a tinge of maroon 
and brown on the shoulders and along the back, while the tail 
presented a ringed appearance from an alternation of the two 
colors. 

“ Tamand.ua ! ” exclaimed Munday, at sight of the strange 
quadruped. “ The ant-eater. Not the great one, which is 
called Tamandua assu, and don’t climb up the trees. That 
you see is the little one; he lives all his life among, the 
oranches, — sleeps there, either upon his breast, or suspended 
by his tail, — travels from one tree to another in search of 



AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


1(30* 

honey, bees, wasps, grubs, but, above all, of such ants as 
make their nests either in holes, or stick to the twigs. Ha!” 
he continued, ‘‘ what could I have been thinking of? The 
tocandeiras wishing to climb up to the tree ? Not a bit of it. 
Quite the contrary. It’s the tamandua that’s keeping them 
in motion! See the cunning beast preparing to make a de- 
rcent among them!” 

Nothing could be more certain than that this was the 
tamandua’s intention ; for almost on the instant it was seen 
to move among the branches, descending from one to the 
other, partly using its strong, hooked claws, and partly its 
tapering and highly prehensile tail. Once upon the dead- 
wood, it lay flat down upon its breast and belly ; and shoot¬ 
ing out its long, thread-like tongue, coated with a sticky 
shining substance resembling saliva, it commenced licking 
up the tocandeiras that swarmed in thousands around it. 
It was.to no purpose that the ants made an attack upon it. 
Nature had provided it with an armor proof both against 
their bite and sting. Rage around it as they might, the 
tocandeiras could do nothing to hinder it from licking them 
up from the log, and tucking them in hundreds into its capa¬ 
cious stomach. Finally the tamandua had taken his fill, — 
breakfasted to his heart’s content; then, erecting himself on 
his hind legs after the manner of a squirrel or marmoset, 
he sprang back upon the branch from which he had de¬ 
scended. Going a little higher up, he selected another and 
larger branch, placing himself so that his belly rested along 
its upper surface, with the legs hanging down on each side; 
and then, burying his proboscis in the long fur of his breast, 
and taking two or three turns of his tail around head, body, 
and legs, he fell fast asleep. 

The old saw, that there is “ many a slip between the cup 
and the lip,” is as true in the life of ant-eater as in that of 
a man ; and when the tamandua awoke, — which it did some 
twenty minutes afterwards, — and looked down upon the 












.1 















































j* 









































THE TAMANDUA. 


187 


dead-wood, it was astonished to discover that not a tocan- 
deira was in sight. 

What had become of them ? When left by the tamandua 
to their own devices there were myriads still surviving. 
The few thousands which the devourer licked up had made 
no perceptible diminution in their numbers; and on the 
retiring of their enemy, they were swarming as thickly jand 
countlessly as ever. Now not one was visible upon the log, 
the hue of which, from being of a flaming red, had returned 
to its original color of sombre gray. A few were discovered 
upon the standing tree, crawling up its trunk and lower 
branches, with excited air and rapid movements, as if escap- % 
ing from terrible disaster. These refugees did not amount 
to many hundreds; thinly scattered over the bark, they 
could have been counted. They were too few to tempt the 
hunger of the tamandua. It would not have been worth his 
while to project his slimy tongue for the sake of a single 
tocandeira; so he retained it — not behind his teeth, for he 
had none — but within the cylinder-shaped cavity of his 
mouth. What had become of the tocandeiras? It is pos¬ 
sible that the tamandua mentally put this question to him¬ 
self ; for there is no animal, however humble its organization, 
that has not been gifted by beneficent Nature with a mind 
and powers of reasoning, — ay, with moral perceptions of 
at least the primary principles of right and wrong, as even 
the little ant-eater gives evidence. 

Perhaps you have yourself witnessed the proof. You have 
seen one ant rob another of its crumb of bread, that by a la¬ 
borious effort has been carried far. You have seen the com¬ 
panions of both gather around the spot, deprive the despoiler 
of its ill-gotten prize, restore the crumb to its lawful possess¬ 
or, and punish the would-be pilferer. If you have not seen 
this, others have, — myself among the number. Surely, it is 
reason; surely, it is moral perception. If not, what is it? 
The closet-naturalist calls it instinct , — a ready word to cloak 


188 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


that social cowardice which shrinks from acknowledging that 
besides man there are other beings upon the earth with tal¬ 
ents worth saving. 

Soon after the ant-eater had gone to sleep, a little bird 
about the size of a starling was seen flitting about. It was 
of the ordinary shape of the shrikes, or fly-catchers, and, like 
them, of sombre plumage, — a dull gray blended with bluish 
slate. As already said, it was flitting about among the tree- 
tops, now and then rising above them, and hovering for a 
while in the air; then lighting again upon a branch, and from 
this hopping to another, and another, all the time giving ut¬ 
terance to twittering but scarcely musical notes. 

“ An ant-thrush,” Munday said. “ It’s hunting about for 
the very creatures that are swarming on that log. If it should 
spy them we ’ll have no more trouble with the tocandeiras. 
“That friend will clear them out of our way. If it but gets 
its eye on that red crowd, it’ll treat them very differently 
from what the beast has done. In twenty minutes there 
won’t be a tocandeira to sting us. May the Great Spirit 
prove propitious, and turn its eyes upon the dead-wood ! ” 

For a time the bird kept up its flickering flight and twit¬ 
tering cry, while our adventurers watched its manoeuvres, keep¬ 
ing quiet, as a precaution against scaring it away. All at once 
the ant-thrush changed its tactics, and its louder note pro¬ 
claimed a surprise. It had come close to the tree that con¬ 
tained the tamandua, and saw the quadruped taking its siesta 
upon the branch. From the presence of the ant-eater it ar¬ 
gued the proximity of their common prey. 

The swarm of fire-ants, reddening the log, formed too con¬ 
spicuous an object to escape being seen. The ant-thrush soon 
saw them, and announced the discovery with a screech, which 
was a signal to scores of hungry companions. It was an¬ 
swered by what seemed a hundred echoes, and soon the air 
resounded with whistling wings, as the feathered ant-eaters 
came crowding to the feast. 


ANT-EATERS — BIPED AND QUADRUPED. 1<$«, 

Bu y - reader, you have bred pigeons, and fed them too 
You have flung before them whole baskets of barley, and 
pecks of oats, until the pavement was thickly strewed. You 
have observed how quickly they could clear the ground of the 
grain. With the like rapidity was the log cleared of .the to- 
can<i.eiras. In ten minutes not a single insect could be seen. 
upon it; and then the feathered ant-eaters, without giving 
the tamandua a hint that his premises had been despoiled, 
flew off into the forest in search of a fresh swarm. 


CHAPTER LXIY. 

ANT-EATERS-BIPED AND QUADRUPED. 

I ^HE spectacle of the bird ant-eaters engaged in their 
work of destruction is one that may be seen almost 
every day in the Amazonian region. The presence of an 
army of ants passing from place to place through the forest 
— themselves often bent upon a marauding and murderous 
expedition — may often be discovered long belong the insects 
themselves are in sight, by the twittering cries and excited 
actions of the ant-thrushes, that in large flocks are seen hov¬ 
ering above them. The traveller takes warning by the spec¬ 
tacle. Experience has long ago taught him that to stray in¬ 
to the midst of a party of foraging ants is no slight matter. 
It would be like dancing an Irish jig over a nest of hornets. 
He is sure of being attacked, bitten, and stung by the ven¬ 
omous insects; and on hearing the call of the ant-thrush, he 
beats an instant retreat. The quadruped licking up his in¬ 
sect prey is a sight of less frequent occurrence. 

Of these four-footed ant-eaters there are many distinct 
kinds, differing very considerably in their habits of life. 



190 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST- 


Four species are known to naturalists; but :'t is probable 
that there are many more yet to be discovered and described. 
The Indians who are best acquainted with the remote haunts 
of the great mountain wilderness of interior South America 
assert that there are others; and their testimony is generally 
derived from acute observation. Of the four known species 
there is the great ant-eater (Myrmecophaga jubata) called 
Tamanoir, large as a mastiff dog, and a match for most dogs 
in strength, often even killing one by squeezing the breath ou> 
of his body between its thick, muscular fore-limbs. This is 
the Tamandua bandeira, or “ banner tamandua ” of the na¬ 
tives, so called from the peculiar marking of its skin, — each 
side of the body being marked by a broad blackish band run¬ 
ning obliquely from the shoulders, and suggesting the resem¬ 
blance of an heraldic banner. It lives in the drier forests, 
making its haunt wherever the white ants (termites), those 
that construct the great hills, abound. Of the habits of this 
species a more complete account has been given elsewhere.* 

The second species of tamandua — that is, in size — is 
quite a different creature. It scarcely ever descends to the 
earth, but passes from branch to branch and tree to tree by 
means of its strong, curving claws, and more especially by 
the aid of a very long and highly prehensile tail. Its food 
consists exclusively of ants, that construct huge earthy nests 
high up among the branches or against the trunks of the 
trees, where they present the appearance of grotesque excres¬ 
cences. This tamandua often moves about during the day, 
in its slow progress much resembling the sloths, though its 
food is so very different from the animal of the Cecropia-tree 
(bicho de embauba). This species dwells chiefly in the thick 
forests, and goes into the Gapo at all seasons of the year, and 
it was one of this sort which the party had seen. 

But there are still two other kinds that make their homo 
upon the trees, — both exceedingly curious little animals, and 

* See “ The Forest Exiles,” by the author of this story. 


THE CHASE OF THE TAMANDUA. 


191 


much more rarely seen than the large tamanduas. They 
are distinguished by the name of tamandua-i , which in the 
Indian language means “ little tamandua.” One of them, the 
rarest of the family, is about the size of a half-grown kitten. 
Instead of hair, it wears a fine wool of a grayish-yellow color, 
soft and silky to the touch. The other is of the same size, 
but dingy brown in color, and with hair of a coarser kind. 
These little ant-eaters both sleep through the day, curled up 
in the cavity of a tree, or in some fork of the branches, and 
only display their activity by night. 

Thus it is that the ants have no chance of escaping from 
their numerous enemies. On the earth they are attacked 
and destroyed by the great ant-eater, in the trees by his 
brother with the four curving claws. By day one species 
preys upon them, — by night, another. Go where they will, 
there is a foe to fall upon them. Even when they seek se¬ 
curity under the earth, there too are they pursued by ene¬ 
mies of their own tribe, the savage eciio?is, which enter their 
subterranean dwellings, and kill them upon their own hearths, 
to be dragged forth piecemeal and devoured in the light of 
the sun! 


CHAPTER LXV. 

THE CHASE OF THE TAMANDUA. 


I F the tamandua had been surprised by the disappearance 
of the tocandeiras, it was not less so to see approaching a 
creature more than .ten times its own size. This creature 
was of a dark bronze color, having a long, upright body, a 
pair of legs still longer, arms almost as long as the legs, and 
a roundish head with long black hair growing out of its crown, 
and hanging down over its shoulders. It the ant-eater had 



192 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


never before seen a human being, — which was probable 
enough, — it saw one now; for this creature was no other 
than old Munday, who had taken a fancy to capture that 
tamandua. Perhaps the little quadruped may have mistaken 
him for an ape, but it must have also thought him the 
grandest it had ever set eyes upon. Swinging itself from 
branch to branch, using both claws and tail to effect its 
flight, it forsook the tree where it had slept, and took to 
another farther into the forest. But Munday had antici¬ 
pated this movement, and passed among the branches and 
over the matted llianas with the agility of an ape, Tiiow 
climbing up from limb to limb, now letting himself down by 
some hanging sipo. 

He was soon joined in the pursuit by Richard Trevannion 
who was an expert climber, and, if unable to overtake the 
ant-eater in a direct chase, could be of service in helping to 
drive it back to the tree it had just left, and which stood at 
the end of a projecting tongue of the forest. It is possible 
that Munday might have been overmatched, with all his 
alertness; for the tamandua had reached the narrowest part 
of the peninsula before he could get there. Once across the 
isthmus , which consisted of a single tree, it would have had 
the wide forest before it, and would soon have hidden itself 
amid the matted tangle of leaves and twigs. Richard, how¬ 
ever, was too cunning to let the ant-eater escape him. Drop¬ 
ping into the water, he swam towards the isthmus with all 
his strength, and reached the tree before the tamandia. 

By this time Munday had arrived from the opposite quar¬ 
ter, and was already climbing into the same tree. Seeing 
itself intercepted on both sides, the tamandua began crawling 
up towards the topmost branches. But Munday was too 
quick for it, and springing after, with the agility of a cat, he 
caught hold of it by one of the hind legs. Being an animal 
insignificant in size, and apparently in strength, the spectator 
supposed he would speedily have dragged it down. In this 


ROAST ANT-EATER. 


L ( J3 

however they were mistaken, not taking account of the power 
in its fore-limbs and tail. 

Notwithstanding the tapuyo exerted all his strength, he 
could not detach it from the tree; and even when assisted by 
his companion, was only able to get the fore-legs free. The 
tail, lapped several times around a limb, resisted all their 
efforts. But Munday cut the clinging tail with his knife, 
leaving two or three of its rings around the branch. Then, 
twisting the stump around his wrist, he swung the animal 
back against the trunk with a force that deprived it at once of 
strength and life. 


CHAPTER LXVI 

ROAST ANT-EATER. 

I NSTEAD of returning to the tree, the Indian and Rich¬ 
ard swam directly to the dead-wood, where they were 
quickly joined by the rest of the party. Although the dead- 
wood was as hard as any other wood, and to sleep upon it 
would be like sleeping on a plank, still it would give them 
the feeling of security; so, as if by general consent, though 
nothing was said, they stretched themselves along the trunk, 
and were soon fast asleep. 

The old Indian, tough as the sipos of his native forests, 
seemed as if he could live out the remainder of his life with¬ 
out another wink of sleep ; and when the rest of his compan¬ 
ions were buried in profound repose, he was engaged in an 
operation that required both energy and the most stoical pa¬ 
tience. In a place where the bark was dry, he had picked 
out a small circular cavity, beside which he had placed some 
withered leaves and dead twigs collected from the tree that 
spread its branches above. Kneeling over this cavity, he 

9 M 



194 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


thrust down into it a straight stick, that had been cut from 
some species of hard wood, and trimmed clear of knots oi 
other inequalities, twirling it between the palms of his hands 
so as to produce a rapid motion, now one way, now the other. 
In about ten minutes a smoke appeared, and soon after sparks 
were seen among the loose dust that had collected from the 
friction. Presently the sparks, becoming thicker, united into 
a flame; and then, dropping the straight stick, he hastily 
covered the hole with the dry leaves and chips, and, blowing 
gently under them, was soon cheered by a blaze, over which 
a cook with even little skill might have prepared a tolerable 
dinner. This had been Munday’s object; and as soon as ho 
saw his fire fairly under way, without dressing or trussing the 
game, — not even taking the hide off, — he laid the tamandua 
across the fire, and left it to cook in its skin. 

It was not the first time by scores that Munday had made 
that repast, known among Spanish Americans as came con 
cuero. He now proceeded to prevent the spreading of the 
flames. The dead-wood around was dry as tinder. Strip¬ 
ping off the cotton shirt that, through every vicissitude, still 
clung to his shoulders, he leant over the side of the floating 
log, and dipped it for several minutes under the water. 
When well soaked, he drew it up again, and taking it to 
the spot where the fire was crackling, he wrung the wa¬ 
ter out in a circle around the edge of his hearth. When 
the tamandua was done brown, he then awakened his com¬ 
panions, who were astonished to see the fire, with the 
bronzed body of the Indian, nude to the waist, squatting in 
front of it, — to hear the crackling of sticks, the loud 
sputtering of the roast, and the hissing of the water cir¬ 
cle that surrounded the hearth. But the savor that filled 
the air was very agreeable. They accepted his invitation 
to partake of the repast, which was found greatly to re¬ 
semble roast goose in taste; and in an inconceivably short 
time only the bones of the ant-eater, and these clean 
picked, could be seen upon the ceiba. 


THE JUAROUA. 


195 


CHAPTER L X V11 

TUE JUAROUA. 

P OSTPONING till the next day the task of making a ca¬ 
noe out of their log, the party soon betook themselves to 
rest again; but they had been slumbering only about an hour 
when a low whimpering noise made by the monkey awoke 
Tipperary Tom, close to whose ear the animal had squatted 
down. Its master raised himself up, and, leaning upon his el¬ 
bow, looked out over the Gapo. There was nothing but open 
water, whose smooth surface was shining like burnished, gold 
under the^beams of the setting sun. He turned toward the 
trees. He saw nothing there, — not so much as a bird mov¬ 
ing among the branches. Raising his head a little higher, and 
peeping over the edge of the dead-wood, “ It’s thare is it, the 
somethin’ that’s scyarin’ ye ? ” he said to his pet. “ An’ shure 
enough there is a somethin’ yandther. There’s a ‘purl’ upon 
the wather, as if some crayther was below makin’ a disturb¬ 
ance among the weeds. I wondther what it is!” 

At length the creature whose motion he had observed, 
whatever it was, came near enough for him to obtain a full 
view of it; and though it was neither a snake nor a crocodile, 
still it was of sufficiently formidable and novel appearance to 
cause him a feeling of fear. In shape it resembled a seal; 
but in dimensions it was altogether different;, being much 
larger than seals usually are. It was full ten feet from snout 
to tail, and of a proportionate thickness of body. It had the 
head of a bull or cow, with a broad muzzle, and thick, over¬ 
hanging lip, but with very small eyes; and instead of ears, 
there were two round cavities upon the crown of its head. It 
had a large, flat tail, not standing up like the tail of a fish, 
but spread in a horizontal direction, like that of a bird. Its x 
skin was smooth, and naked of hairs, with the exception of 


196 


AFLOA'i IN THE FOREST. 


some straggling ones set thinly over it, and some tufts resem¬ 
bling bristles radiating around its mouth and nostrils. The 
skin itself was of a dull leaden hue, with some cream-colored 
spots under the throat and along the belly. It had also a 
pair of flippers, more than a foot in length, standing out from 
the shoulders, with a teat in front of each, and looking like 
little paddles, with which the huge creature was propelling 
itself through the water, just as a fish uses its fins or a man 
his arms. 

The Irishman did not stay to note half of these character¬ 
istics, but hastily woke Munday, crying, “ What is it ? O what 
is it?” 

The Indian, rousing himself, looked round for a moment 
dreamily, and then, as he caught sight of the strange object 
replied, “ Good fortune! it is th ejuaroua.” 


CHAPTER LXVIII. 

A FISH-COW AT PASTURE. 

mHE Irishman was no wiser for Munday’s answer, “The 
JL juaroua.” “But what is it?” he again asked, curious 
to learn something of the creature. “ Is it a fish or a quad¬ 
ruped ? ” 

“A peixe-boi ,— a ? peixe-boi ! ” hurriedly answered the ta- 
puyo. “ That’s how the whites call it. Now you know.” 

“ But I don’t, though, not a bit betther than before. A 
pikes-boy! Troth, it don’t look much like a pike at all, at 
all. If it’s a fish av any kind, I should say it was a sale. 
O, luk there, Munday ! Arrah, see now ! If it’s the owld 
pike’s boy, yandther \s the young wan too. See, it has tuk 
ho wit ax the tit, an’ ’s sucking away like a calf! An’ Ink 



A FISH-COW AT PASTURE. 


107 


the old wan 1ms got liowlt av it with her flipper, an* ’s kapin 
it up to the breast! Save us! did hever I see such a 
thing!” 

The sight was indeed one to astonish the Irishman, since 
it has from all time astonished the Amazonian Indians them¬ 
selves, in spite of its frequency. They cannot understand so 
unusual a habit as that of a fish suckling its young; for they 
naturally think that the peixe-boi is a fish, instead of a ceta¬ 
cean, and they therefore continue to regard it with curious 
feelings, as a creature not to be classified in the ordinary 
way. 

“ Hush! ” whispered the Indian, with a sign to Tom to 
keep quiet. “ Sit still! make no noise. There’s a chance 
of our capturing the juaroua,— a good chance, now that I 
see the juaroua-i [little one] along with it. Don’t wake the 
others yet. The juaroua can see like a vulture, and hear 
like an eagle, though it has such little eyes and ears. 
Hush! ” 

The peixe-boi had by this time got abreast of the dead- 
wood, and was swimming slowly past it. A little beyond 
there was a sort of bay, opening in among the trees, towards 
which it appeared to be directing its course, suckling the 
calf as it swam. 

“ Good,” said Munday, softly. “ I guess what it’s going 
after up there. Don’t you see something lying along the 
water ? ” 

“ Yes; but it’s some sort av wather-grass.” 

“ That’s just it.” 

“ An’ what would it want wid the grass ? Yez don’t mane 
to till me it ates grass ? ” 

“ Eats nothing else, and this is just the sort it feeds on. 
Very like that’s its pasturing place. So much the better 
if it is, because it will stay there till morning, and give mo 
a chance to kill it.” 

“ But why can’t yez kill it now ? ” said Tom, 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


1&8 

“ For want of a proper weapon. My knife is of no use. 
The juaroua is too cunning to let one come so near. If it 
come back in the morning, I will take care to be ready for 
it. From it we can get meat enough for a long voyage. 
See, it has begun to browse ! ” 

Sure enough it had, just as the Indian said, commenced 
pasturing upon the long blades of grass that spread horizon¬ 
tally over the surface; and just as a cow gathers the meadow 
sward into her huge mouth, at intervals protruding her 
tongue to secure it, so did the great water cow of the Amazon 
spread her broad lips and extend her rough tongue to take in 
the floating herbage of the Gapo. 


CHAPTER LXIX 

THE PASHUBA SPEAR. 

M UNDAY was now prepared to set out on a little ex¬ 
ploring excursion, as he said; so, enjoining upon 
Tom, who was determined to awake the sleepers that they 
might share the sight of the feeding fish-cow, to keep them 
all strictly quiet until his return, he slipped softly into the 
water and swam noiselessly away. 

The enforced silence was tedious enough to the party, who 
were all eager to talk about the strange spectacle they saw, 
and it would surely have been soon broken,Lad not the Indi¬ 
an returned with a new object for their curiosity. He had 
stolen off, taking with him only his knife. At hisVeappear- 
ance he had the knife still with him, and another weapon as 
well, which the knife had enabled him to procure. It was a 
staff of about twelve feet in length, straight as a rush, slightly 
tapering, and pointed at the end like a spear. In fact, it w u. 



fHE PA&HUBA SPEAR. 


19B 

a spear, which he had been manufacturing during his hour 
of absence out of a split stem of the pashuba palm. Not 
far off he had found one of these trees, a water-loving species, 
— the Martea exorhuza , — whose stems are supported upon 
slanting roots, that stand many feet above the surface of the 
soil. With the skill known only to an Amazonian Indian in 
the use of a knife-blade, he had split the pashuba, (hard as 
iron on the outside, but soft at the heart,) and out of one of the 
split pieces had he hastily fashioned his spear. Its point only 
needed to be submitted to fire, and then steel itself would not 
serve better for a spear-head. Fortunately the hearth was 
not yet cold. A few red cinders smouldered by the wet cir¬ 
cle, and, thrusting his spear point among them, the Indian 
waited for it to become hardened. When done to his satis¬ 
faction, he drew it out of the ashes, scraped it to a keen point 
with the blade of his knife, and then announced himself ready 
to attack the juaroud. 

The amphibious animal was yet there, its head visible 
above the bed of grass upon which it was still grazing. 
Miinday, while rejoiced at the circumstance, expressed him¬ 
self also surprised at it. He had not been sanguine of find¬ 
ing it on his return with the spear, and, while fabricating 
the weapon, he had only been encouraged by the expectation 
that the peixe-boi, if gone away for the night, would return 
to its grazing ground in the morning. As it was now, it 
could not have afforded him a better opportunity for striking it. 
It was reclining near the surface, its head several inches above 
it, and directly under a large tree, whose lower limbs, extend¬ 
ing horizontally, almost dropped into the water. If he could 
but get unperceived upon one of those limbs, it would be an 
easy matter to drive the spear into its body as far as his 
strength would enable him. 

If any man could swim noiselessly through the water, 
climb silently into the tree, and steal without making sound 
along its limbs, that man was the Mundurucu. In less time 


200 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


than you could count a thousand, he had successfully accom 
plished this, and was crouching upon a limb right over the 
cow. In an instant his spear was seen to descend, as the 
spectators were expecting it to do; but to their astonishment, 
instead of striking the body of the peixe-boi, it pierced into 
the water several feet from the snout of the animal! What 
could it mean? Surely the skilled harpooner of fish-cattle 
could not have made such a stray stroke. Certainly he had 
not touched the cow ! Had he speared anything ? 

“He’s killed the calf!” cried Tipperary Tom. “Luk 
yanther ! Don’t yez see its carcass floatin’ in the wather ?” 

Still the spectators could not understand it. Why should 
the calf have been killed, which would scarce give them a 
supper, and th$ cow spared, that would have provisioned the 
whole crew for a month ? Why had the chance been thrown 
away ? Was it thrown away ? They only thought so, while 
expecting the jfeixe-boi to escape. But they were quickly 
undeceived. They had not reckoned upon the strong mater¬ 
nal instincts of that amphibious mother, — instincts that anni¬ 
hilate all sense of danger, and prompt a reckless rushing 
upon death in the companionship or for the protection of the 
beloved offspring. It was too late to protect the tiny crea¬ 
ture, but the mother recked not of this. Danger deterred 
her not from approaching it again and again, each time re¬ 
ceiving a fresh stab from that terrible stick, until, with a 
long-drawn sigh, she expired among the sedge. 

These animals are extremely tenacious of life, and a single, 
thrust from such a weapon as he wielded would only have 
put the peixe-boi to-flight, never to be encountered again. 
The harpoon alone, with its barbed head and floats, can se¬ 
cure them for a second strike; and not being provided with 
this weapon, nor the means of making it, the old tapuyo knew 
that his only chance was to act as he had done. Experience 
had made him a believer in the affection of the animal, and 
the -esult proved that he had not mistaken its strength. 


CURING 1HE FISH-COW. 


201 


CHAPTER LXX. 

CURING THE FISH-COW. 

N OTHING was done for that night. All slept content 
edly on the dead-wood, which next day became the 
scene of a series of curious operations. This did not differ 
very much from the spectacle that might be witnessed in th* 
midst of the wide ocean, when whalemen have struck one of 
the great leviathans of the deep, and brought their ship along¬ 
side for the purpose of cutting it up. 

In like manner as the whale is “ flensed,” so was the fish- 
cow, Munday performing the operation with his knife, by first 
skinning the creature, and then separating the flesh into broad 
strips or steaks, which were afterwards make into charqui\ 
by being hung up in the sun. 

Previous to this, however, many “ griskins ” — as Tom 
called them — had been cut from the carcass, and, broiled 
over the fire kindled upon the log, had furnished both supper 
and breakfast to the party. No squeamishness was shown by 
any one. Hunger forbade it; and, indeed, whether with 
sharp appetites or not, there was no reason why they should 
not relish one of the most coveted articles of animal food to 
be obtained in Amazonia. The taste was that of pork; 
though there were parts of the flesh of a somewhat coarser 
grain, and inferior in flavor to the real dairy-fed pig. 

The day was occupied in making it ready for curing, which 
would take several days’ exposure under the hot sun. Before 
night, however, they had it separated into thin slices, and 
suspended upon a sort of clothes-line, which, by means of 
poles and sipos, Munday had rigged upon the log. The lean 
paits alone were to be preserved, for the fat which lies be¬ 
tween these, in thick layers of a greenish color and fishy fla¬ 
vor, is considered rather strong for the stomach, — ever of an 


202 


afloat in the forest 


Indian not over nice about such matters. When a peixe-bof 
ias been harpooned in the usual manner, this is not thrown 
away, or wasted. Put into a proper boiling-pot, it yields . 
very good kind of oil, — ten or twelve gallons being obtained 
from an individual of the largest and fattest kind. 

In the present instance, the fat was disregarded and flung 
back into the flood, while the bones, as they were laid bare, 
were served in a similar fashion. The skin, however, vary¬ 
ing from an inch in thickness over the back, to half an inch 
under the abdomen, and which Munday had removed with 
considerable care, was stowed away in a hollow place upon 
the log. Why it was kept, none of the others could guess. 
Perhaps the Indian meant it as something to fall back upcn 
in the event of the charqui giving out. 

It was again nightrby the time the cow-skin was deposited 
in its place, and of course no journey could be attempted foi 
that day. On the morrow they intended to commence the 
yoyage which it was hoped would bring them to the other 
side of the lagoa, if not within sight of land. As they ate 
their second supper of amphibious steaks , they felt in better 
spirits than for many days. They were not troubled with 
hunger or thirst; they were not tortured by sitting astride 
the branches of a tree ; and the knowledge that they had 
now a craft capable of carrying them — however slow might 
be the rate — inspired them with pleasant expectations. 
Their conversation was more cheerful than usual, and during 
the after-supper hour it turned chiefly on the attributes and 
habits of the strange animal which Munday had so cleverly 
dissected. 

Most of the information about its habits was supplied by 
the Indian himself, who had learned them by personal expe¬ 
rience ; though many points in its natural history were given 
by the patron, who drew his knowledge of it from books* 
Trevannion told them that a similar creature — though be* 
lieved to be of a different species — was found in the sea 









% 



» 


























































































































































































CURING THE FISH-COW 


203 


out generally near to some coast where there was fresh water 
flowing in by the estuary of a river. One kind in the Indian 
seas was known by the name of dugong , and another in 
the West Indies as the manati or manatee, — called by the 
French lamantin. The Spaniards also know it by the name 
of vaca marina (sea-cow), the identical name given by the 
Dutch of the Cape Colony to the hippopotamus, — of course 
a very different animal. 

The manati is supposed to have been so named from its fins, 
or flippers, bearing some resemblance to the hands of a hu¬ 
man being, — in Spanish, manos, — entitling it to the appella¬ 
tion of the “ handed ” animal. But the learned Humboldt has 
shown that this derivation would be contrary to the idiom of 
the Spanish language, .which would have made the word ma- 
nudo or manon, and not manati. It is therefore more likely 
that this name is the one by which it was known to the abo¬ 
rigines of the southern coast of Cuba, where the creature was 
first seen by the discoverers of America. Certain it is that 
the sea species of the West Indies and the Guianian coast is 
much larger than that found in the Amazon and other South 
American rivers; the former being sometimes found full 
twenty feet in length, while the length of the fish-cow of 
South America rarely reaches ten. 

Here Munday took up the thread of the discourse, and in¬ 
formed the circle of listeners that there were several species 
of juaroua — this was the name he gave it — in the waters 
of the Amazon. He knew of three kinds, that were distinct, 
not only in size, but in shape, — the difference being chiefly 
observable in the fashion of the fins and tail. There was also 
some difference in their color, — one species being much 
lighter in hue than the others, with a pale cream-colored 
belly; while the abdomen of the common kind'is of a slaty 
lead, with some pinkish white spots scattered thinly oyer it. 

A peculiar characteristic of the peixe-boi is discovered in 
its lungs, — no doubt having something to do wit!) its am 


204 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


phibious existence. These, when taken out of the animal 
and inflated by blowing into them, swell up to the lightness 
and dimensions of an India-rubber swimming-belt; so that, 
as young Richard observed while so inflating them, they 
could spare at least one set of the sapucaya-shells, if once 
more compelled to take to the water. 

Munday gave a very good account of the mode practised 
in capturing the juaroua, not only by the Indians of his own 
tribe, but by all others in the Amazon valley. The hunter 
of the peixe-boi — or fisher, as we should rather call him — 
provides himself with a montaria (a light canoe) and a har¬ 
poon. He rows to the spot where the creature may be ex¬ 
pected to appear, — usually some solitary lagoon or quiet 
spot out of the current, where there is a species of grass 
forming its favorite food. At certain hours the animal comes 
thither to pasture. Sometimes only a single individual fre¬ 
quents the place, but oftener a pair, with their calves, — never 
more than two of the latter. At times there may be seen a 
small herd of old ones. 

Their enemy, seated in his canoe, awaits their approach in 
silence ; and then, after they have become forgetful of all 
save their enjoyment of the succulent grass, he paddles up to 
them. He makes his advances with the greatest caution; 
for the fish-cow, unlike its namesake of the farm-yard, is a 
shy and suspicious animal. The plunge of the paddle, or a 
rude ripple of the water against the sides of the montaria, 
would frighten it from its food, and send it off into the open 
water, where it could not be approached. 

The occupant of the canoe is aware of this, and takes care 
not to make the slightest disturbance, till he has got within 
striking distance. He then rises gently into a half-crouch¬ 
ing attitude, takes the measure of tht distance between him 
and his victim, and throws his harpoon with unerring aim. 
A line attached to the shaft of the weapon secures the 
wounded animal from getting clear away. It may dive to 


CURIN'! THE FISII-COW. 


•205 


the bottom, or rush madly along the surface, but can only go 
so far as that terrible tether will allow it, to be dragged back 
towards the montaria, where its struggles are usually termi¬ 
nated by two or three thrusts of a spear. 

The sport, or, more properly speaking, the trade, of har¬ 
pooning this river cetacean, is followed by most of the Ama¬ 
zonian Indians. There is not much of it done during the 
season of the floods. Then the animals, becoming dispersed 
over a large surface of inundated forest, are seen only on 
rare occasions; and a chase specially directed to discover 
them would not repay the trouble and loss of time. It is 
when the floods have fallen to their lowest, and the lagoas or 
permanent ponds of water have contracted to their ordinary 
limits, that the harpooning of the fish-cow becomes profitable. 
Then it is followed as a regular pursuit, and occupies the 
Indian for several weeks in the year. 

Sometimes a lagoon is discovered in which many of these 
creatures have congregated, — their retreat to the main river 
having been cut off by the falling of the floods. On such 
occasions the tribe making the discovery reaps a plentiful 
harvest, and butchering becomes the order of the day. 

The malocca, or village, is for the time deserted; all hands 
— men, women, children, and curs — moving off to the lagoa, 
and making their encampment upon its edge. They bring 
with them boiling-pots, for trying out the oil, and jars to con¬ 
tain it, and carry it to the port of commerce ; for, being of a 
superior quality, it tempts the Portuguese trader to make long 
voyages up many remote tributaries where it is obtained. 

During these grand fisheries there is much feasting and 
rejoicing. The “jerked ” flesh of the animal, its skin, and, 
above all, its valuable oil, are exchanged for knives, pigments, 
trinkets, and, worse still, for cashaca (rum). The last is too 
freely indulged in; and the fishing rarely comes to a close 
without weapons being used in a manner to bring wounds, 
and often death. 


206 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 

As the old Mundurucu had been present at many a hum 
of the fish-cow, he was able to give a graphic acccunt of the 
scenes he had witnessed, to which his companions on the log 
listened with the greatest attention. So interested were 
they, that it was not till .near midnight that they thought of 
retiring to rest. 


CHAPTER LX XI. 

A SAIL OF SKIN. 

B Y daybreak they were astir upon their new craft; and 
after breakfast they set about moving it away from its 
moorings. This was not so easily accomplished. The log 
was a log in every respect; and though once a splendid 
silk-cotton-tree, covered with gossamer pods, and standing 
in airy majesty over the surrounding forest, it now lay as 
heavy as lead among the weeds and water-lilies, as if un¬ 
willing to be stirred from the spot into which it had 
drifted. 

You may wonder how they were able to move it at all; 
supposing, as you must, that they were unprovided with either 
oars or sails. But they were not so badly off as that. 
The whole of the preceding day had not been spent in 
curing the fish-cow. Munday’s knife had done other ser¬ 
vice during the afternoon hours, and a pair of paddles had 
been the result. Though of a rude kind, they were per¬ 
fect enough for the purpose required of them ; while at 
the same time they gave evidence of great ingenuity On 
the part of the contriver. They had handles of wood, with 
blades of bone, made from the fish-cow’s shoulder-blades, 
which Monday had carefully retained with the skin, while 
allowing the offal to sink. In his own tribe, and elsewhere 



A SAIL OF SKIN. 


207 


Dn the Amazon, he had seen these bones employed — and 
had himself employed them — as a substitute for the spade. 
Many a cacao patch and field of mandioca had Munday 
cleared with the shoulder-blade of a fish-cow; and upon 
odd occasions he had used one for a paddle. It needed 
only to shaft them; and this had been done by splicing a 
pole to each with the tough sipos. 

Provided with these paddles, then, — one of them wielded 
by himself, the other by the sturdy Mozambique, — the log 
was compelled to make way through the water. The prog¬ 
ress was necessarily slow, on account of the tangle of long 
stalks and broad leaves of the lilies. But it promised to im¬ 
prove, when they should get beyond these into the open part 
of the lagoon. Out there, moreover, they could see that 
there was a ripple upon the water; which proved that a 
breeze had sprung up, not perceptible inside the sheltering 
selvage of the trees, blowing in the right direction, — that is, 
from the trees, and towards the lagca. 

You may suppose that the wind could not be of much use 
to them with such a craft, — not only without a rudder, but 
unprovided with sails. So thought they all except the old 
tapuyo. But the Indian had not been navigating the Gapo 
for more than forty years of his life, without learning how to 
construct a sail; and, if nothing else had turned up, he could 
have made a tolerable substitute for one out of many kinds 
of broad, tough leaves, — especially those of the miriti palm. 

He had not revealed his plans to any one of the party. 
Men of his race rarely declare their intentions until the 
moment of carrying them into execution. There is a feel¬ 
ing of proud superiority that hinders such condescension. 
Besides, he had not yet recovered from the sting of humilia¬ 
tion that succeeded the failure of his swimming enterprise; 
and he was determined not to commit himself again, either 
by too soon declaring his designs, or too confidently predict¬ 
ing their successful execution. 


208 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


It was not, therefore, till a stout pole had been set up in a 
hollow dug out by his knife in the larger end of the log, two 
cross pieces firmly lashed to it by sipos, and the skin of the 
fish-cow spread out against these like a huge thick blanket 
of caoutchouc, and attached to them by the same cordage of 
creepers, — it was not till then that his companions became 
fully acquainted with his object in having cut poles, scooped 
the hollow, and retained the skin of the cow, as he had done 
to their previous bewilderment. 

It was all clear now ; and they could not restrain them- 
Belves from giving a simultaneous cheer, as they saw the dull 
dead-wood, under the impulsion of the skin sail, commence a 
more rapid movement, until it seemed to “ walk the water 
like a thing of life.” 


CHAPTER LXXII. 


BECALMED. 


NCE out on the open lagoa, and fairly under sail, in 



KJ what direction should they steer their new craft ? 
They wanted to reach the other side of the lagoa, which the 
Indian believed to extend in the right direction for finding 
terra jirma. They had skirted the edge upon which they 
were for several miles, without finding either the sign of land 
or an opening by which they might penetrate through the for¬ 
est, and it was but natural that they should wish to make trial 
the other side, in the hope of meeting with better fortune. 

Mozey, who prided himself on being the best sailor aboard, 
was intrusted with the management of the sail, while Tre- 
vannion himself acted as pilot. The Indian busied himself in 
looking after the curing of the charqui, which, by the help 
o* such a hot sun as was shining down upon them, would 



BECALMED. 


209 


Boon be safely beyond the chance of decay. The young 
people, seated together near the thick end of the log — which 
Mozey had facetiously christened the quarter-deck of the 
craft — occupied themselves as they best might. 

The cloud that had shadowed them for days was quite 
dispelled. With such a raft, therq was every expectation 
of getting out of the Gapo. It might not be in a day, oi 
even in a week. But time was of little consequence, so long 
as there was a prospect of ultimate release from the laby¬ 
rinth of flooded forests. The charqui, if economized, would 
feed all hands foe a fortnight, at least; and unless they 
should again get stranded among the tree-tops they could 
scarcely be all that time before reaching dry land. 

Their progress was sadly slow. Their craft has been 
described as “ walking the water like a thing of life.” L$ut ^ 
this is rather a poetical exaggeration. Its motion was that 
of a true dead-wood, heavily weighted with the water that 
for weeks had been saturating its sides. It barely yielded 
to the sail; and had they been forced to depend upon the 
paddles, it would have been a hopeless affair. A mile an 
hour was the most they were able to make; and this only 
when the breeze was at its freshest. At other times, when 
it unfortunately lulled, the log lay upon the water with no 
more motion than they caused as they stepped over it. 

Towards noon their progress became slower; and when 
at length the meridian hour arrived the ceiba stood still. 
The sail had lost the power of propelling it on. The breeze 
had died away, and there was now a dead calm. The 
shoulder-blades of the peixe-boi were now^resorted to, but 
neither these, nor the best pair of oars that ever pulled a 
man-o’-war’s boat, could have propelled that tree-trunk 
through the water faster than half a knot to the hour, and 
the improvised paddles were soon laid aside. 

There wasgfcme comfort in the delay. The hour of din 
ner had now arrived, and the crew were not unprepared 

N 


210 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


for the midday meal; for in their hurry at setting out, and 
the solicitude arising from their uncertainty about their 
craft, they had breakfasted scantily. Their dinner was to 
consist of but one dish, a cross between fish and flesh, — a 
cross between fresh and dried, — for the peixe-boi was still 
but half converted into charqui. x 

The Indian had carefully guarded the fire, the kindling of 
which had cost him so much trouble and ingenuity. A few 
sparks still smouldered where they had been nursed; and, with 
some decayed pieces of the ceiba itself, a big blaze was once 
more established. Over this the choices! tit-bits were sus¬ 
pended until their browned surface proclaimed them “ done 
to a turn.” Their keen appetites furnished both sauce and 
seasoning; and when the meal was over, all were ready to 
declare that they had never dined more sumptuously in their 
lives. Hunger is the best appetizer; scarcity comes next. 

They sat after dinner conversing upon different themes, 
and doing the best they could to while away the time, — the 
only thing that at all discommoded them being the beams of 
the sun, which fell upon their crowns like sparks of fire show¬ 
ered from a burning sky. Tom’s idea was that the heat of 
the sun could be endured with greater ease in the water than 
upon the log; and, to satisfy himself, he once more girdled 
on the cincture of shells, and slipped over the side. His 
example was followed by the patron himself, his son and 
nephew. 

Little Rosa did not need to retreat overboard in this is 
norninous manner. She was in the shade, under a tiny toldc 
of broad leaves of a Pothos plant, which, growing parasiti- 
cally upon one of the trees, had been plucked the day before, 
and spread between two buttresses of the dead-wood. Her 
cousin had constructed this miniature arbor, and proud did he 
appear to see his little sylph reclining under its shade. 

The tapuyo, accustomed to an Amazonian sun, did not re¬ 
quire to keep cool by submerging himself; and as for th# 










✓ 

% 
















































































































































































































* 

























BECALMED. 


2 i 1 


negro, bo would scarce have been discommod: 1 by an atmos¬ 
phere indicated by the highest figure on the thermometer. 
These two men, though born on opposite sides of the Atlan¬ 
tic Ocean, were alike types of a tropical existence, and equal¬ 
ly disregarded the fervor of a tropic sun. 

Suddenly the four, who had fallen a little astern, were seen 
making towards the log ; and by the terror depicted on their 
countenances, as well as their quick, irregular strokes, it was 
evident something in the water had caused them serious 
alarm. What could it all mean ? It was of no use to ask 
the swimmers themselves. They were as ignorant of what 
was alarming them as their companions upon the log; they 
only knew that something was biting them about the legs and 
feet; but what it was they had not the slightest idea. It 
might be an insect, — it might be a water-snake, or other 
amphibious reptile; but whatever it was, they could tell that 
its teeth were sharp as needles, and scored their flesh like 
fish-hooks. 

It was not till they had gained footing upon the log, and 
their legs were seen covered with lacerations, and streaming 
with fresh blood, that they ascertained the sort of enemy that 
had been attacking them. Had the w r ater been clear, they 
might have discovered it long before; but discolored as it was, 
they could not see beneath the surface far enough to make 
out the character of their secret assailants. But the tapuyo 
well understood the signs, and, as soon as his eye rested upon 
them, his perplexity disappeared; and, with an exclamation 
ihai vainer betokened relief, he pronounced the simple phrase^ 
“ Only piranha* / ” 


21 2 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER L X XIII 

THE PIRANHAS. 

mHE companions of the tapuyo were no wiser for hit 
I words, until piranhas was explained to them to mean 
u biting fish,” for such were the unseen enemies that assailed 
them. 

They belong to the great tribe of the Salmonidce, of which 
there are many varieties in the different Amazonian rivers, 
all very voracious, and ready to bite at anything that may be 
thrown into the water. They often attack bathers, putting 
them to flight; and a swimmer who should unfortunately be 
surrounded by them, when far from the shore or a boat, would 
have the greatest difficulty to escape the fearful fate of being 
eaten up alive. Most of the species are fish of small size, 
and it is their numbers that the swimmer has chiefly to 
dread. 

As it was, our adventurers were more scared than hurt. 
The commotion which they had made in the water, by their 
plunging and kicking, had kept the piranhas at a distance, 
and it was only an odd one that had been able to get a tooth 
into them. 

For any injury they had sustained, the Mundurucu prom¬ 
ised them not only a speedy revenge, but indemnification of a 
more consolatory kind. He knew that the piranhas, having 
tasted blood, would not willingly wander away, at least for a 
length of time. Although he could not see the little fish 
through the turbid water, he was sure they were still in the 
neighborhood of the log, no doubt in search of the prey that 
had so mysteriously escaped them. As the dead-wood scarce¬ 
ly stirred, or drifted only slightly, the piranhas could keep 
alongside, and see everything that occurred without being 
«en themselves. This the tapuyo concluded they were do 



THE PIRANHAS*. 


2 \ 


rag. He knew their reckless voracity, — how they will sud 
denly spring at anything thrown into the water, and swallow 
without staying to examine it. 

Aware of this habit, he had no difficulty in determining 
what to do There was plenty of bait in the shape of half- 
dried charqui, but not a fish-hook to be found. A pair of 
pins, however, supplied the deficiency, and a piece of string 
was just right for a line. This was fastened at one end to the 
pashuba spear, to the pin-hook at the other; and then, the 
latter being baited with a piece of peixe-boi, the fishing 
commenced. 

Perhaps never with such rude tackle was there more suc¬ 
cessful angling. Almost as soon as the bait sank under the 
w r ater, it was seized by a piranha,.which was instantly jerked 
out of its native element, and landed on the log. Another 
and another and another, till a score of the creatures lay 
upon the top of the dead-wood, and Tipperary Tom gave 
them the finishing touch, as they were caught, with a cru¬ 
el eagerness that might to some extent have been due to 
the smarting of his shins. 

How long the “ catch ” might have continued it is difficult to 
say. The little fish were hooked as fast as fresh bait could be 
adjusted, and it seemed as if the line of succession was never 
to end. It did end, however, in an altogether unexpected way, 
by one of the piranhas dropping back again into the water, and 
taking, not only the bait, but the hook and a portion of the line 
along with it, the string having given away at a weak part 
near the end of the rod. 

Munday, who knew that the little fish were excellent to eat, 
would have continued to take them so long as they were will¬ 
ing to be taken, and for this purpose the dress of Rosita was 
despoiled of two more pins, and a fresh piece of string made 
out of the skin of the cow-fish. 

When the new tackle was tried, however, he discovered to 
his disappointmeut that the piranhas would no longer bite,' 


214 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


not so much as a nibble could be felt at the end of the 
string. They had had time for reflection, perhaps had held 
counsel among themselves, and come to the conclusion that 
the game they had been hitherto playing was “ snapdrag¬ 
on ” of a dangerous kind, and that -it was high time to desist 
from it. 

The little incident, at first producing chagrin, was soon 
viewed rather with satisfaction. The wounds received were so 
slight as scarce to be regarded, and the terror of the thing was 
over as soon as it became known what tiny creatures had 
inflicted them. Had it been snakes, alligators, or any ani¬ 
mals of the reptile order, it might have been otherwise 
But a school of handsome little fishes, — who could sup¬ 
pose that there had been*any danger in their attack? 

There had been, nevertheless, as the tapuyo assured them, — 
backing up his assurance by the narrative of several narrow 
escapes he had himself had from being torn to pieces by their 
sharp triangular teeth, further confirming his statements by 
the account of an Indian, one of his own tribe, who had 
been eaten piecemeal by piranhas. 

It was in the river Tapajos, where this species of fish is 
found in great plenty. The man had been in pursuit of a 
peixe-boi, which he had harpooned near the middle of the 
river, after attaching his weapon by its cord to the bow 
of his montaria. The fish being a strong one, and not 
wounded in a vital part, had made a rush to get off, car¬ 
rying the canoe along with it. The harpooner, standing 
badly balanced in his craft, lost his balance and fell over¬ 
board. While swimming to overtake the canoe, he was at¬ 
tacked by a swarm of piranhas ravenous for prey, made 
so perhaps by the blood of the peixe-boi left along the 
water. The Indian was unable to reach the canoe; and 
notwithstanding the most desperate efforts to escape, he 
was ultimately compelled to yield to his myriad assailants. 

His friends on shore saw all, without being able to rendei 


A STOWAWAY. 


215 


.he slightest assistance. They saw his helpless struggles, 
and heard his last despairing shriek, as he sank below the 
surface of the water. Hastening to their canoes, they pad- 
died rapidly out to the spot where their comrade had disap¬ 
peared. All they could discern was a skeleton lying along 
the sand at the bottom of the river, clean picked as if it had 
been prepared for an anatomical museum, while the school 
of piranhas was disporting itself alone, as if engaged in dan¬ 
cing some mazy minuet in honor of the catastrophe they had 
occasioned. 


CHAPTER LXXIV. 

A STOWAWAY. 

TP! HE new-caught fishes looked too temptingly fresh to be 

I long untasted; and although it was but an hour since 
our adventurers had eaten their dinner, one and all were in¬ 
clined for an afternoon meal upon piranha. The Mundurucii 
set the fire freshly astir, and half a dozen piranhas were soon 
browned in the blaze and distributed among the party, who 
one and all indorsed the tapuyo, by pronouncing them a 
delicacy. 

After the second dinner they were more gay than ever. 
The sun sinking westward indicated the quarters of the com¬ 
pass ; and already a few puffs of wind promised them an 
evening breeze. They saw that it was still blowing in the 
same direction, and therefore favorable to the navigation of 
their craft, whose thick sail, spread broadly athwart ships, 
seemed eager to catch it. 

Little dreamt they at that moment that, as it were, a vol¬ 
cano was slumbering under their feet; that separated from 
them by only a few inches of half-decayed wood was a crea- 



21fc 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST 


ture of such monstrous size and hideous shape as to ha^e im¬ 
pressed with a perpetual fear every Indian upon the Amazon, 
from Para to Peru, from the head waters of the Purus to the 
sources of the Japura! At that moment, when they were 
chatting gayly, even laughingly, in confidence of a speedy 
deliverance from the gloomy Gapo, — at that very moment 
the great Mai d’Agoa , the “Mother of the Waters,” was 
writhing restlessly beneath them, preparing to issue forth 
from the cavern that concealed her. 

The tapuyo was sitting near the fire, picking the bones of 
a piranha, which he had just taken from the spit, when all at 
once the half-burned embers were seen to sink out of sight, 
dropping down into the log, as cinders into the ash-pit of a 
dilapidated grate. “ Ugh ! ” exclaimed the Indian, giving a 
slight start, but soon composing himself; “ the dead-wood 
hollow at the heart! Only a thin shell outside, which the 
fire has burnt through. I wondered why it floated so lightly, 
— wet as it was ! ” 

“ Was n’t it there the tocandeiras had their nest?” inquired 
Trevaunion. 

“ No, patron. The hole they had chosen for their hive is 
different. It was a cavity in one of the branches. This is a 
hollow along the main trunk. Its entrance will be found 
somewhere in the but, — under the water, I should think, aj 
the log lies now.” 

Just then no one was curious enough to crawl up to the 
thick end and see. What signified it whether the entrance 
to the hollow, which had been laid open by the falling in of 
the fire, was under water or above it, so long as the log itself 
kept afloat ? There was no danger to be apprehended, and 
the circumstance would have been speedily dismissed from 
their minds, but for the behavior of the coaita, which now at¬ 
tracted their attention. 

It had been all the time sitting upon the highest point 
which the dead-wood offered for a perch. Not upon the 


A STOWAWAY. 


217 


rudely rigged mast, nor yet the yard that carried the sail; 
but on a spar that projected several feet beyond the thick 
end, still recognizable as the remains of a root. Its air and 
attitude had undergone a sudden change. It stood at full 
length upon all fours, uttering a series of screams, with chat 
terings between, and shivering throughout its whole frame, 
** as if some dread danger was in sight, and threatening it with 
instant destruction. 

It was immediately after the falling in of the fagots that 
this began; but there was nothing to show that it was con¬ 
nected with that. The place where the fire had been burning 
was far away from its perch; and it had not even turned its 
eyes in that direction. On the contrary, it was looking be¬ 
low ; not directly below where it stood, but towards the but- 
end of the ceiba, which could not be seen by those upon the 
log. Whatever was frightening it should be there. There 
was something about the excited actions of the animal,— 
something so heart-rending in its cries, — that it was impossi¬ 
ble to believe them inspired by any ordinary object of dread; 
and the spectators were convinced that some startling terror 
was under its eyes. 

Tipperary Tom was the first to attempt a solution of the 
mystery. The piteous appeals of his pet could not be resist¬ 
ed. Scrambling along the log he reached the projecting 
point, and peeped over. Almost in the same instant he re¬ 
coiled with a shriek ; and, calling on his patron saint, retreat¬ 
ed to the place where he had left his companions. On his 
♦etreat Munday set out to explore the place whence he had 
fled, and, on reaching it, craned his neck over the end of the 
dead-wood, and looked below. A single glance seemed to 
satisfy him; and, drawing back with as much fear as the man 
who had preceded him, he exclaimed in a terrified shriek, 
“ Santos Dios! \ is the Spirit of the Waters! ” 


10 


213 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER L XXV 


THE SPIRIT OF THE WATERS 


HE Mai d'Agoa! the Spirit of the Waters!” ex- 



claimed Trevannion, while the rest stood speechless 
with astonishment, gazing alternately upon the Indian and 
the Irishman, who trembled with affright. “ What do you 
mean ? Is it something to be feared ? ” 

Munday gave an emphatic nod, but said no word, being 
partly awed into silence and partly lost in meditating some 
plan of escape from this new peril. 

“ What did you see, Tom ? ” continued Trevannion, ad¬ 
dressing himself to the Irishman, in hopes of receiving some 
explanation from that quarter. 

“ Be Sant Pathrick! yer honor, I can’t tell yez what it 
was. It was something like a head with a round shinin’ 
neck to it, just peepin’ up out av the wather. I saw a pair 
av eyes, — I did n’t stay for any more, for them eyes was 
enough to scare the sowl out av me. They were glittherin 
like two burnin’ coals! Munday calls it the spirit av the 
wathers. It looks more like the spirit av darkness! ” 

“ The Mai d'Agoa , uncle,” interposed the young Paraense, 
speaking in a suppressed voice. “ The Mother of the Waters ! 
It’s only an Indian superstition, founded on the great water 
serpent, — the anaconda. No doubt it’s one of these he and 
Tom have seen swimming about under the but-end of the 
log. If it be still there I shall have a look at it myself.” 

The youth was proceeding towards the spot so hastily 
vacated by Munday and Tom, when the former, seizing him 
by the arm, arrested his progress. “ For your life, young 
master, don’t go there! Stay where you .are. It may not 
come forth, or may not crawl up to this place. I tell you 
t is the Spirit of the Waters! ” 


THE SPIRIT OF THE WATERS. 


21? 


“ Nonsense, Munday; there’s no such thing as a spirit 
the waters. If there were, it would be of no use our 
trying to hide from it. What you’ve seen is an anaconda. 
I know these water-boas well enough, — have seen them 
scores of times among the islands at the mouth of the Ama¬ 
zon. I have no fear of them. Their bite is not poisonous, 
and, unless this is a very large one, there’s not much dan¬ 
ger. Let me have a look! ” 

The Indian, by this time half perouaUed that he had 
made a mistake, — his confidence also restored by this cour¬ 
ageous behavior, — permitted Richard to pass on to the 
end of the log. On reaching it he looked over; but re¬ 
coiled with a cry, as did the others, while the ape uttered a 
shrill scream, sprang down from its perch, and scampered 
off to the opposite extremity of the dead-wood. 

“ It is an anaconda ! ” muttered the Paraense, as he made 
his way “ amidships,” where the rest were awaiting him; 
“ the largest I have ever seen. No wonder, Munday, you 
should mistake it for the Mai cFAgoa. ’T is a fearful- 
looking creature, but I hope we shall be able to destroy it 
before it can do any of us an injury. But it is very large, 
and we have no arms ! What’s to be done, Munday ? ” 

“ Be quiet, — make no noise! ” entreated the Indian, who 
was now himself again. “ May be it will keep its place till 
I can get the spear through its neck, and then — Too late! 
The sucuruju is coming upon the log! ” 

And now, just rising through a forked projection of the 
roots, was seen the horrid creature, causing the most cour¬ 
ageous to tremble as they beheld it. There was no mistak¬ 
ing it for anything else than the head of a serpent; but such 
a head as not even the far-travelled tapuyo had ever seen 
before. In size it equalled that of an otter, while the lurid 
light that gleamed from a pair of scintillating orbs, and still 
more the long, forked tongue, at intervals projected like a 
double jet of flame, gave it an altogether demoniac appean 


ance. 


220 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


The water out of which it had just risen, still adhering to 
its scaly crown, caused it to shine with the brightness of 
burnished steel; and, as it loomed up between their eyes and 
the sun, it exhibited the coruscation of fire. Under any cir¬ 
cumstances it would have been fearful to look at; but as it 
slowly and silently glided forth, hanging out its forked red 
tongue, it was a sight to freeze the blood of the bravest. 

When it had raised its eyes fairly above the log, so that it 
could see what was upon it, it paused as if to reconnoitre. 
The frightened men, having retreated towards the opposite 
end of the dead-wood, stood as still as death, all fearing to 
make the slightest motion, iest they should tempt the mon¬ 
ster on. 

They stood about twenty paces from the serpent, Munday 
nearest, with the pashuba spear in hand ready raised, and 
standing as guard over the others. Richard, armed with 
Munday’s knife, was immediately behind him. For more 
than a minute the hideous head remained motionless. There 
was no speech nor sound of any kind. Even the coaita, 
screened by its friends, had for the time ceased to utter its 
alarm. Only the slightest ripple on the water, as it struck 
against the sides of the ceiba, disturbed the tranquillity of the 
scene, and any one viewing the tableau might have supposed 
it set as for the taking of a photograph. 

But it was only the momentary calm that precedes the 
tempest. In an instant a commotion took place among the 
sta'ue-like figures,—all retreating as they saw the serpent 
rise higher, and, after vibrating its head several times, lie flat 
along, evidently with the design of advancing towards them. 
In another instant the monster was advancing, — not rapidly, 
but with a slow, regular motion, as if it felt sure of its victims, 
and did not see the necessity for haste in securing them.* 


AN UNEXPECTED ESCAPE 


221 


CHAPTER LXXYI 

AN UNEXPECTED ESCAPE. 

TilHE great reptile had already displayed more than a 
JL third of its hideous body, that kept constantly thicken¬ 
ing as it rose over the but-end of the log ; and still the tapuyo 
appeared irresolute. In a whisper, Trevannion suggested 
their taking to the water. 

“No, patron; anything but that. It would just be what 
the sucuruju would like. In the water it would be at home, 
and we should not. We should there be entirely at his 
mercy.” 

“ But are we not now ? ” 

4t Not yet, — not yet, — stay ! ” 'From the fresh confidence 
with which he spoke, it was evident some plan had suggested 
itself. “ Hand me over that monkey!” he said; and when 
he took the ape in his arms, and advanced some paces along 
the log, they guessed for what the pet was destined, — to 
distract the attention of the anaconda, by securing for it a 
meal! 

Under other circumstances, Tom might have interfered to 
prevent the sacrifice. As it was, he could only regard it 
with a sigh, knowing it was necessary to his own salvation. 

As Munday, acting in the capacity of a sort of high-priest, 
advanced along the log, the demon to whom the oblation was 
to be made, and which he still fancied might be the Spirit of 
the Waters, paused in its approach, and, raising its head, gave 
out a horrible hiss. 

In another instant the coaita was hurled through the air, 
and fell right before it. Rapidly drawing back its head, and 
opening wide its serrated jaws, the serpent struck out with 
the design of seizing the offering. But the ape, with charac¬ 
teristic Quickness, perceived the danger; and, before a tooth 


222 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


could be inserted into its skin, it sprang awa} r , and, scamper¬ 
ing up the mast, left Munday face to face with the anaconda, 
that now advanced rapidly upon him who had endeavored 
to make use of such a substitute. 

Chagrined at the failure of his stratagem, and dismayed by 
the threatening danger, the tapuyo retreated backwards. In 
his confusion he trod upon the still smouldering fire, his 
scorched feet scattering the fagots as he danced through 
them, while the serpent, once more in motion, came resolutely 
on. 

His companions were now more frightened than ever, for 
they now saw that he was, like themselves, a prey to fear. 
For again had he become a believer in the Spirit of the Wa¬ 
ters. As he stood poising his spear, it was with the air of a 
man not likely to use it with effect. The young Paraense, 
with his knife, was more likely to prove a protector. But 
what could either do to arrest the progress of such a power¬ 
ful monster as that, which, with only two thirds of its length 
displayed, extended full twenty feet along the log? Some 
one of the party must become a victim, and who was to be 
the first? 

The young Paraense seemed determined to take prece¬ 
dence, and, with the generous design of protecting his friends, 
— perhaps only little Rosa was in his thoughts, — he had 
thrown himself in front of the others, even the spearman 
standing behind him. It appeared that his time was come. 
He had not confidence that it was not. What could he do 
with a knife-blade against such an enemy ? He stood there 
but to do his duty, and die. 

And both would quickly have been accomplished, — the 
duty and the death,—but that the Omnipotent Hand that 
had preserved them through so many perils was still stretched 
over them, and in its own way extricated them from this new 
danger. To one unacquainted with the cause, it might have 
been a matter of surprise tc see the reptile, hitherto deter 


HISTOKU OF THE ANACONDA. 


223 


mined jupon making an attack, all at once turn away from its 
intended victims; and, without even showing its tail upon the 
log, rotreat precipitately into the water, and swim off over the 
lagoa, as if the ceiba was something to be shunned beyond 
everything else that might be encountered in the Gapo! 


CHAPTER LXXVII. 

HISTORY OF THE ANACONDA. 

F HOUGH it may be a mystery to the reader why it had 



JL retreated, it was none to our adventurers, who had seen 
it crawl over the scattered fagots; they had heard the hiss¬ 
ing, sputtering sound, as the live coals came in contact with 
its wet skin ; they had witnessed its dismay and flight at a 
phenomenon so unexpected. They were therefore well aware 
that it was the scorching hot cinders that had caused the su- 
curuju to forsake the dead-wood in such a sudden and appar¬ 
ently mysterious manner. 

It was some time before they were entirely relieved ot 
their fears. Notwithstanding its precipitate retreat, they 
could not tell but that the anaconda might change its mind 
and come back again. They could see it swimming for some 
time in a tortuous track, its head and part of its neck erect 
above the water; then it took a direct course, as if deter¬ 
mined upon leaving the lagoa. It was, therefore, with no 
ordinary feeling of relief that they saw it finally disappearing 
from view in the far distance. 

The mystery of its presence upon the dead monguba was 
soon cleared up. The log was hollow inside, the heart-wood 
being entirely decayed and gone. In the cavity the serpent 
had perhaps sought a sleeping-place secure from intrusion 



224 


AFLOAT in the forest. 


during some protracted slumber that had succeeded the swal 
lowing of a gigantic prey, — deer, paca, or capivaia. Here 
it had lain for days, — perhaps weeks; and the log, carried 
away by the rising of the floods, had done nothing to disturb 
its repose. Its first intimation that there was any change in 
the situation of its sleeping-place was when the fire fell in 
through the burnt shell, and the hot cinders came in contact 
with its tail, causing it to come forth from its concealment, 
and make the observation that resulted in its attacking the 
intruders. The hollow that had contained the colony of 
tocafkleiras was altogether a different affair. It was a cavity 
of a similar kind, bvyt unconnected with that in the heart of 
the tree; and it was evident that the little insects and the 
great reptile, although dwelling in such close proximity, — 
under the same roof, it majr be said, — were entirely unac¬ 
quainted with each other. 

When the serpent was quite out of sight, our adventurer? 
once more recovered their spirits, and conversed gayly about 
the strange incident. The breeze, having freshened, earried 
their raft with considerable rapidity through the water, in 
the right direction, and they began to scan the horizon before 
them in the hope of seeing, if not land, at least tWwe-tops 
ahead. These, however, did no-show themselves on that 
day, aud before the sun went down the forest behind them 
sank out of sight. The night overtook them, surrounded by 
a smooth surface of open water, spotless and apparently as 
limitless as the great ocean itself. 

They did not “lay to,” as on the night before. The 
breeze continued favorable throughout the night; and, as they 
were also favored with a clear sky, and had the stars to 
pilot them, they kept under sail till the morning. Before 
retiring to rest they had supped upon roast charqui and 
fish broiled over the coals; and, after supper, talk com¬ 
menced, as usual, the chief topic being the anaconda. On 
this subject the tapuyo had much to say, for of all the ani- 


HISTORY OF T1IE ANACONDA. 


22S 


mals that inhabit the water wilderness of the Amazon there 
is none that inspires the Indian with greater interest than the 
sucuruju. It is the theme of frequent discourse, and of 
scores of legends; — sDme real and true, while others have 
had their origin in the imagination of the ignorant aboriginal; 
some even having proceeded from the excited fancy of the 
colonists themselves, both Spanish and Portuguese, who 
could boast of a higher intelligence and better education. 

The fanciful say that there are anacondas in the waters 
of the Amazon full thirty yards in length, and of a thickness 
equalling the dimensions of a horse! This has been stated 
repeatedly, — stated and believed in, net only by the igno¬ 
rant Indian, but by his instructors, the monks of the mis¬ 
sions. The only fanciful part of the statement is what re¬ 
gards the size, which must be merely an exaggeration. What 
is real and true is of itself sufficiently surprising. It is true 
that in the South American rivers there are anacondas, or 
“ water boas,” as they are sometimes called, over thirty feet 
in length and of proportionate thickness; that these mon¬ 
strous creatures can swallow such quadrupeds as capivaias, 
deer, and even large-sized animals of the horse and cattle 
kind; * they are not venomous, but kill their prey by 

constriction , — that is, by coiling themselves around it, and 
crushing it by a strong muscular pressure; and that, once 
gorged, they retire to some safe hiding-place, — of which 
there is no scarcity in the impenetrable forests of Amazonia, 
— go to sleep, and remain for a time in a sort of torpid 
condition. Hence they are much more rarely seen than 
those animals which require to be all the time on the alert 
for their daily food. 

Of these great snakes of Tropical America there are sev¬ 
eral species ; and these again are to be classified, according to 
their habits, into two groups markedly distinct, — the “ boas,” 
properly so called, and the “ water boas,” or anacondas. The 
former are terrestrial m their mode of living, and are to be 
10* o 


226 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


found upon the dry road; the latter, though not strictly liv¬ 
ing in the water or under it, are never met with except where 
it is abundant; that is to say, on the banks of rivers and 
lagoons, or in the submerged forests of the Gapo. They 
swim under water, or upon the surface, with equal facility; 
and they are also arboreal, their powers of constriction enab¬ 
ling them to make their way to the tops of the highest trees. - 
It is these that are more properly called sucurujus, — a 
name belonging to the common language spoken upon the 
Amazon, a mixture of Portuguese with the ancient tongue of 
the Supinampas, known as the lingua geral. No doubt, also, 
it is from some unusually large specimen of sucuruju, seen 
occasionally by the Indian hunters and fishermen, that these 
simple people have been led into a belief in the existence of 
the wonderful Mai d'Agoa , or “ Mother of the Waters.” 


CHAPTER LXXVIII 


A SNAKE “ YARN.” 


HEERED by the thought that the breeze was bearing 



V_> them in the right direction, our adventurers sat up till 
a late hour. When they at length resolved upon going to 
sleep, it was arranged that two should sit up, — one to mind 
the sai', the other to ply a paddle, and keep the craft steadily 
to her course, as well as could be done with such a rudder. 
The old sea-cook still had charge of the sheets and halyards, 
while Tipperary, notwithstanding that he had already proved 
himself such an indifferent helmsman, was intrusted with the 
steering. 

After the many perils through which they had passed, and 
under the apprehension of the many more through which 



A SNAKE “YARN.” 


227 


►Ley might yet have to pass, Tom’s mismanagement, — the 
original cause of all their misfortunes, — if not forgotten, was 
not remembered against him with resentment. It had been 
only an error of judgment, — a fault of the head, and not of 
the heart. 

Even the negro, whose race appears, almost by instinct, to 
inherit an antipathy to the countrymen of Tom, and who, pre¬ 
vious to the catastrophe, was not always on the best of terms 
with the Irishman, no longer showed signs of spite: rather 
had the two become friends. Their friendship sprung from 
the ties of a common misfortune, and any little difference 
that now displayed itself was in a rivalry as to which . hould 
make himself most useful to the floating community. 

On this particular night they sat together as white a;id 
black brothers; Mozey attending to the sipo that served foj 
a sheet to the sail, and Tom steering the craft by a star that 
had been pointed out to him as that towards which he was to 
keep her head. 

Both African and Irishman were not a little vain of being 
thus left to themselves. Up to that time both had been play¬ 
ing a very subordinate part; the Indian taking upon himself 
almost the sole management of affairs, and treating them as 
nobodies. From the night on which they had made their un¬ 
fortunate mistake by straying into the Gapo, every movement 
had been made by his counsel and direction : moreover, both 
had suffered humiliation by his having saved their lives from 
drowning. Although they were not ungrateful for that, they 
were nevertheless chagrined to think that they should be so 
looked upon. 

On this night, Munday, worn out by his long.-coctinued 
exertions, was urged by Trevannion to desist, and recruit his 
energies by good repose. As there was no particular reason 
why he should remain awake, he had consented to do so; 
and, with his back against one of the buttresses, he reposed 
silent as the. Sphinx. 


228 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST 


Neither the man of Mozambique, nor he of Tipperary, 
was given to habits of silenee ; and they continued to con* 
verse long after the others had sunk into slumber. After 
what had that day occurred, it was natural that the theme 
should be snakes. “ Yez have got some in your counthry, 

— have n’t yer, Mozey ? ” inquired Tom. 

“ Dar you ’se ’bout right, Masser Turn. Have n’t we got 
urn ! Snakes ob de biggest kind.” 

“ But none so big as the wun we saw the day?” 

“Buf! you call dat a big snake. He not more den ten 
yard long. I’ve hab some on de coass of Africa, down dere 
by Mozabeek, dat measure more den a mile, — ticker round 
de body den dis ere log we sittin’ on.” 

‘ More than a mile long ! ” rejoined Tipperary. “ And 
thicker than this tree ! Yez don’t mane to say ye iver saw 
wan ove that size yerself ? ” 

“ Well, I’s not say it war a whole mile. It mout be less, 
an’ it mout a been more dan a mile. Ob one ting I’s sartin 
shoo : it wa’ n’t less den three quarters ob a mile. Youz 
may b’lieve um or not; jess as you pleeze ’bout dat, Massa 
Tipprary. All I ’b got to say is, dat de snake I ’peak ’bout 
war long nuff to go clar roun’ de kraal, and twice roun’ too.” 

“ A kraal! what moight that be ? I know what a kreel is. 
Miny’s the wan I’ve carried on me back, full ov turf at that, 
in the bogs of Tipperary. Yez don’t mane a kreel, div ye ? ” 

“ Kreel! no. I’m ’peakin’ ’bout de place we niggers live 
in, — village, you white folk call ’um.” 

“ A village! that is a town av people, — men, weemen, 
and childher.” 

“Jess so. Da be men, woman, and chillen in de kraal, 

— sartin to be plenty of boaf de last, — an’dar am dogs, 
and sheeps, and goats, and sometime big cattle. Dat’s 
zactly what we brack folks ob de African coass call de kraal. 
Some am bigger dan oders ; but de one I peak ’bout, dat wai 
surrounded by de snake, war a kraal ob de mod’rate size. If 


A SNAKE “YARN.' 


229 


had ’bout a hundred houses, and, ob coorse, it contain zackly 
hundred families, excludin’ de picaninnies.” 

“ A snake to extind round a hundherd houses! Whin was 
that ? ” v 

“When dis chile was a picaninny hisself. If you like, 
Massa Tipprary, I tell you all ’bout it. Ye see, dat de kraal 
1 ’peak ’bout w r ar my native place, vvha dis chile fust saw de 
shinin’ ob de sun. I ’pose I war ’bout ten year ole jess at dat 
time when de sacumstance ’curred ob which I go tell you. 
Near de village dar war a big foress. It wa’ filled with all 
sorts ob dangerous beasts. Da wa’ buffaloes and elephants, 
an’ de rhinoceros, an* hipperpotamusses, an’ dar war big mon¬ 
keys ob de baboon ’pecies. These lass war partickler danger¬ 
ous, ’pecially to de women ob de place, for if any ob de nigga 
gals strayed too fur into de foress, den de baboons carried dera 
up into de tops ob de highest trees, an’ dere kep’ dem prisoner 
fo’eber. But de wussest ting in dat wood war de snakes. 
Da war ob all sorts an’ sizes. Dere war de cobera, berry 
benemous, dat killed you w’if him bite, an’ de spit snake 
dat fo’ pizen beat de cobera all holler, as it kud kill ye by jess 
spittin’ upon yer from among de branches ob a tree. An’ 
da war de whip-snake, dat lashed folks to deaph wif him 
tail; an’ de rock-boa dat twisted itself roun’ you body an’ 
crushed you to de jelly.. But none ob dese kud hold a 
candle to de great big snake ob all, — de one I tell you 
’bout. Munday, he call dat we see, de spirit ob de wa¬ 
ters. Our big snake we nigga of Mozabeek call de debbil 
ob de woods. Nebba mind ’bout de name. He come one 
fine mornin’, dis debbil come, while de people ob de kraal 
war all ’sleep, dat is ’fore anybody get up to go ’bout dar 
bisness. He surroun’ the village twice” 

“ You mane that he crawled twice round it ? ” 

“ Not a bit ob dat; he may hab crawled twenty time roun 
it: nobody know. De people all ’sleep when he '\orne. 
What dis chile mean is, dat when de people get out ob 


230 


AFLOAT itf THE FOREST. 


dar beads, an’ come to de door, de debbil ob de woods, be 
hab him body all roun’ de place in two great coil, one on top 
ob de odder, like de cable ’board ship, — de two makin’ a 
fence roun’ de kraal, more ’n ten feet high.” 

“ Saint Pathrick prasarve us! ” 

“ Ah, Masser Tom, I tink I hear you say dat de San Par- 
fick you ’peak ’bout was a great Snake-killer in yur country. 
I wish he had been in de island of Mozabeek on dat same 
inornin’. Pahps dis nigger might still hab a fadder an’ a 
modder. He loss dem boaf on de occasion we now ’peak 
ob. You see de snake, after enclosin’ de kraal twice roun’ 
wif him body, left enuf ob de neck to reach all ober de place ; 
den stretchin’ out him mouf, dat war wide nuf to swaller 
a man ’ithout chewin’ him, he went from house to house, 
pickin’ out de people, till der want one lef’, neider man, 
woman, nor chile. He eat up de chief ob de kraal jess 
de same as de commonest scum ob de village. As fo’ de 
picaninnies, he swallow dem eight or ten at a time, jess de 
same as we see de ant-eater do wif de ants. Boaf de 
men an’ de women an’ de chillen try to ’scape out ob de 
place. ’T wa’n’t no manner ob use. When dey tried to 
climb ober de body ob de snake, de ole debbil gub hisself 
a shake, an’ down dey slipped from him sides, as if him 
skin had been coated from de slush cask. Ob course da 
wa’ soon all destroyed.” 

“But yerself, Mozey; how did yez manage to ’scape ? ” 

“ Ah, how! dat wor de bess joke ob de whole. As I’s 
been tellin’ you, I war at de time only a picaninny, ’bout ten 
years ob de age. I war considered ’bove de common for dat 
age, an’ wa’ employed in de house ob de chief which war 
called de palace. Well, jess when I see dat great big mouf 
sarchin’ from place to place an’ swallerin’ up ebberybody, I 
know it wan’t no use to hide down dar among de houses. 
Now dar war a big pole dat stood righ’ in front ob de palace, 
wif n flag floatin’ on de top. When de odder folk wai ruu* 


ST. PATRICK’S PERFORMANCE. 


231 


Din * about ebbery wha else, I climbed up de pole, an* when 
f got to de top, 1 drawed de flag rouu’ me, so as to hide de 
whole ob my body. When dat ’ere debbil ob de woods had 
finished off wif de oder people, and cleared out de kraal com¬ 
plete, he nebber thought ’bout lookin’ up de pole, or ’spectin 
whether tha wa’ anybody wrop up in de flag at de top. Dis 
chile kep’ up dar till he see de snake ’tretch out him long 
body, an’ go back to de big foress. Den I slip down from de 
tree, an’ make my way to de nearest place wha da war peo¬ 
ple. As boaf my fadder and modder had been eat up ’long 
wi’ de ress, I atterwards left home an’ tuk to de sea. Dat’s 
why dis nigger hab wandered all de way fom dat ’ere island 
ob Mozabeek. Buf! de snake we see here, de spirit ob 
de water, a’n’t no more to de debbil ob de woods dan a 
tadpole am to de biggest alligator in all de waters ob de 
Amazum.” 


CHAPTER LXXTX 


st. Patrick’s performance 


OTWITHSTANDING the serious air with which 



L’N Mozey told his very improbable story, Tom did not ap- 
jear to give implicit credence to it. He evidently suspected 
what the rogue had been cheating him ; and, after several 
exclamations of wonder, but without betraying incredulity, 
he sat in silence, apparently cogitating some scheme for re¬ 
paying him. It was not long before an opportunity offered, 
his companion unintentionally furnishing him with a cue. 

“ I’s hab beer, Massa Turn, dat dar am no snake in de 
country wha you come from. Dat ’ere de troof ? ” 

“ Yis. Nayther snake nor toad in owld Oireland, — nayther 
^o»ild live for a single hour, if ye plants them thare- The 



232 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


green island wud n’t contain thim bekase they ’re condimned 
to die the moment they sit fut on the sod.” 

“ But what condemn dera ? ” 

“ Saint Pathrick, to be shure. Trath, thare’s a story 
about that. May be yez wud loike to be afther hearin’ it, 
Mozey ? ” 

“ Like um berry much, Massy Turn.” 

“ Will, thin, I ’ll till it to yer. It is n’t such a wondherful 
story as yours; but it had a betther indin’, as yer ’ll see when 
ye’ve heerd it. Instid av the snakes killin’ all the people 
exciptin’ wan, the riptiles got killed thimsilves, all but wan, 
— that was the father of ivry sirpint in the world. He’s 
livin’ yit, an’ must now be about five thousand years uv age. 
So the praste sez. 

“ A long toime ago, owld Oireland was very badly infisted 
wid thim craythers. They wur so thick all over the swate 
island, that yez cud n’t sit your fut down widout triddin’ on 
wan av their tails; an’ to kape out av their way the people 
had to build a great scaffoldin’ that extinded all over the 
counthry, and slape on the threes, just as we’ve been doin’ 
over the gyapo. 

“ Whiniver they wanted anythin’ to ate, such as purtaties, 
an’ the loike, they were compilled to git it up from the ground 
wid long forks; and whin they wur in need to dhrink, they 
had to dip it up in buckets, as if they were drawin’ it out av 
a well. 

“ Av coorse this was moighty inconvanient, an’ cud n’t last 
long no how. The worst ov it was, that the snakes, instid ov 
gettin’ thinned off, were ivery year growin’ thicker, by razin 
ov their large families ov young wuns. Will, it got so bad 
at last that ther’ wusn’t a spot av groun’ bigger than the 
bunck ov your hand that war n’t occupoyed by a snake, an’ in 
some places they were two deep. The people up on the plat¬ 
form that I towld yez about, they cursed an’ swore, an’ raged, 
an’ raved, an’ at last prayed to be delivered from the inirny/ 


ST. PATRICK’S PERFORMANCE. 


233 


Here Tom paused to note the effect of his speech on hia 
sable listener. 

“ But dey war delibbered, — wur dey ? ” 

“ Trath, wur they. If they had n’t, is it at all loikely that 
yer wud see me here ? Will, the people prayed. Not a? 
your countrymen prays, to a stick or a stone, or beloike tc 
the sarpints themselves, that could do them no benefit; but 
to a lady, that was able to protect them. We, in owld Oire- 
land, call lier the Virgin Mary. She was the mother av 
Him that came down from the siventh heaven to save us 
poor sinners. But what’s the use of my tryin’ to explain all 
that to an ignorant haythen, loike you ? ” 

“ No use, Massa Turn, no use,” rejoined the African, in a 
tone of resignation. 

“ Never moind, Mozey. The lady heerd their prayer, and 
that was an ind to it.” 

“ She killed da snakes! ” 

“Arrah now; did yez think the Virgin Mary — a raal 
lady as she was — ud be afther doin’ such dhirty work as 
slaughter a whole island full of venomous sarpents? Not a 
bit av that same. It’s true they were desthroyed; but not by 
her own swate hands. She sinds a man to do the work for 
her. She sint Sant Pathrick.” 

“ (\ I’s heerd ye ’peak ob dat man, many’s de time, Mas- 
sa Turn. ’T wur him dat kill de serpents, wur it?” 

“ Trath was it, 

“ But how’d he do it ? It muss hab take um a berry long 
time to destroy um all.” 

“There ye are intirely asthray, nager. It only occupied 
him wan day, an’ not all the day nayther, for he had done 
the work a thrifle ov a hour or so afther dinner-time.” 

“ Gollvs ! how’d he do all dat?” 

“Will! ye see, he invited all the snakes to a grand ban- 
quit. He had such a charmin’ way wid him that they wun 
an’ all agreed to come. The place was on the top of a high 


234 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


mountain, — called the Hill of Howth, — far hoigher than 
any in the Andays we saw when crossin’ thare. The faste 
he had provided for them was a colliction of toads, includin’ 
every wun ov thim that inhabited the island. The toads he 
had invited too; an’ the stupid craythers, not suspictin’ any¬ 
thin’, come willingly to the place. 

“Now yez must undherstand, nager, that the snakes are 
moighty fond of toads, and frogs too ; but Saint Patkrick had 
no ill-will against the frogs, an’ they wur exchused from corn¬ 
in’. As it was, the toads wur axed at an earlier hour than 
the snakes, an’ got first to the top of the hill ; an’ while they 
were waitin’ there to see what was to be done, the sarpints 
came glidin’ up, and bein’ tould that their dinner was spread 
before them, they fell to, an’ swallowed up every toad upon 
the hill, which was every wun there was in all Oireland.” 

The narrator made a long pause, either to draw breath 
after such a declamation, or to give time for his companion to 
indulge his astonishment. 

“ Gora! ” exclaimed the latter, impatient for further ex¬ 
planation. “ How ’bout de snakes demselves ? Surely dey 
did n’t swallow one anodder ? ” 

“ Trath! an’ that’s jest what they did do, — every mother’s 
son of thim.” 

“ But dat ’ere doan’ ’tan’ to reezun, unless dey hab a fight 
one wif de odder ? Splain yourself, Massa Turn.” 

“Will, yez have guessed it exactly widout my sayin’ a 
word. They did have a foight, that went all roun’ through 
the whole crowd, like a shindy in Donnybrook fair. Yez 
would loike to hear how it begun. Will, I ’ll tell ye. There 
was two kinds av the riptile. Wan they called ‘ Ribbon 
snakes,’ an’ the tother ‘ Orange snakes,’ by razon av their 
color, both in politics and religion. They had a king over 
both that lived moighty foi'ne at their expinse. But he 
couldn’t manage to keep thim continted with payin’ him 
taxes, unless by sittin’ the wan agaynst, the tother. An’ this 





































































































































































I* 











































« 


















235 


LIGHTS AHEAD. 

he did to the full av his satisfacshin. Now the bad blood 
that was betwane thim showed itself at that great gatherin’ 
worse than iver it had done afore. Thare was n’t toads 
enough to give them all a full male; and by way of dissart 
they thought they’d turn to an’ ate wun another. Av course 
that was just what Sant Pathrick wanted; for he was n’t 
plazed at their having two sorts of religion. So the ould 
praste hugged thim on in the quarrel, till it come to blows, 
an’ inded in both kinds killin’ an’ atin’ wun another till there 
was nothing lift av ayther exceptin’ the tails.” 

“ Golly! what becomed of de tails ? ” 
a O, thim? The people jumped down from the scaffolds 
and gathered thim up into a hape, and thin made a great 
bonfire av thim, and aftherwardt spred the ashes over the 
£roun’; and that’s what makes ould Oireland the greenest 
gim av the oshin.” 

“ But, Massa Turn, you hab say dat one ob de snakes ’scape 
from the genr’l congregation ? ” 

“Trath did I say it. Wun did escape, an’ ’s livin’ to 
make mischief in ould Oireland to this very day.” 

“ Which one was he ? ” 

“ Their king.” 

“ De king. How you call um, Massa Tipprary ? n 
“ The Divvel.” 


CHAPTER LXXX. 

LIGHTS AHEAD. 

T HE expression of incredulity had now floated from the 
countenance of the Irishman to that of the African, who 
in turn suspected himself imposed upon. The leer in Tom’s 
eye plainly declared that he considered himself “ quits ” with 



I 

236 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


Lis companion; and the two remained for some momenta 
without further exchange of speech. When the conversation 
was resumed, it related to a theme altogether different. It 
was no longer on the subject of snakes, but stars. 

The pilot perceived that the one hitherto guiding him was 
going out of sight, — not by sinking below the horizon, but 
because the sky was becoming overcast by thick clouds. In 
ten minutes more there was not a star visible; and, so far as 
direction went, the helm might as well have been abandoned. 
Tom, however, stuck to his paddle, for the purpose of steady¬ 
ing the craft; and the breeze, as before, carried them on in a 
direct course. In about an hour after, this gave token of for¬ 
saking them; and, at a still later period, the log lay be¬ 
calmed upon the bosom of the lagoa. 

What next? Should they awake the others and commu¬ 
nicate the unpleasant intelligence ? Tom was of opinion that 
they should, while the negro thought it would be of no use. 
u Better let dem lie ’till,” argued he, “ and hab a good night 
ress. Can do no good wake um up. De ole craff muss lay 
to all de same, till dar come anodder whif ob de wind ! ” 

While they were disputing the points, or rather after they 
had done disputing, and each held his tongue, a sound reached 
their ears that at once attracted the attention of both. It 
was rather a chorus of sounds, not uttered at intervals, but 
continued all the time they were listening. It bore some 
resemblance to a distant waterfall; but now and then, ming¬ 
ling with the hoarser roaring of the torrent, were voices as 
of birds, beasts, and reptiles. None of them were very dis¬ 
tinct. They appeared to come from some point at a great 
distance off. Still, they were loud enough to be distinguished, 
as sounds that could not proceed out of the now tranquil bo¬ 
som of the lagoa. 

Perhaps they might sooner have attracted the notice of the 
two men, but for the sighing of the breeze against the sail, 
and the rippling of the water as it rushed along the sides of 


LIGHTS AHKAD. 


237 


tha ceiba. Wher.. these sounds had ceased, the conversation 
that ensued produced the same effect; and it was only after 
the dispute came to a close that the disputants were made 
aware that something besides their own voices was disturbing 
the tranquillity of the night. 

“ What is it. I woi dher ? ” was the remark of Tipperary 
Tom. “ Can yez tell, Mozey ? ” 

“ It hab berry much de soun’ ob a big forress! ” 

“The sound av a forest? What div yez mane by that?” 

“ Wha’ shud I mean, but de voices ob de animal dat lib in 
de forress. De birds an’ de beast, an’ de tree frogs, an’ dem 
'ere crickets dat chirps ’mong de trees. Dat’s what dis 
nigger mean.” 

“I b’lieve ye’re right, nager. It’s just that same. It 
can’t be*the wather, for that’s did calm; an’ it can’t pur* 
ceed from the sky, for it don’t come in that direction. In 
trath it’s from the forest, as ye say.” 

“ In dat case, den, we muss be near de odder side ob de 
lagoa, as de Indyun call um, —jess wha we want to go.” 

“ Sowl, thin, that’s good news! Will we wake up the 
masther an’ till him av it ? What do yez think ? ” 

“ Dis nigga tink better not. Let um all sleep till de broke 
ob day. Dat can’t be far off by dis time. I hab an idee dat 
I see de furs light ob mornin’ jess sliowin’ out yonner, at de 
bottom ob de sky. Gora! what’s yon ? Dar, dar! ’trait 
afore de head. By golly ! dar’s a fire out yonner, or some- 
ting dat hab de shine ob one. Doan ye see it, Massa Turn?” 

“ Trath, yis ; I do see somethin’ shinin’. It a’n’t them fire- 
i!ies, div yez think ? ” 

“No! ’ta’n’t de fire-fly. Dem ere flits about Yon ting 
am steady, an’ keeps in de same place.” 

“ There’s a raal fire yandher, or else it’s the willy-wisp 
See! be me troth thare’s two av thim. Div yez see two ? ” 

“ Dar am two.” 

“ That can t be the willy-wisp. He’s niver seen in cou' 


2?8 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


pies,— at laste, niver in the bogs av Oireland. What can 
it be ? ” 

“What can which be?” asked Trevannion, who, at this 
moment awaking, heard the question put by Tom to the 
negro. 

“ Och, look yandher! Don’t yez see a fire ? ” 

“ Certainly ; I see something very like one, — or rather 
two of them.” 

“ Yis, yis ; there’s two. Mozey and meself have just dis¬ 
covered thim. 

“ And what does Mozey think they are ? ” 

“Trath, he’s perplixed the same as meself. We can’t 
make hid or tail av thim. If there had 'been but wan, I’d 
a sayed it was a willy-wisp.” 

“ Will-o’-the-wisp! No, it can scarce be that, — the two 
being together. Ah! I hear sounds.” 

“ Yes, masther, we’ve heerd thim long ago.” 

“Why didn’t you awake us? We must have drifted 
nearly across the lagoa. Those sounds, I should say, come 
out of the forest, and that, whatever it is, must be among the 
trees. Munday ! Munday 1 ” 

“ Hola ! ” answered the Indian, as he started up from his 
squatting attitude: “ what is it, patron ? Anything gone 
wrong ? ” 

“ No: on the contrary, we appear to have got very near 
to the other side of the lagoa.” 

“ Yes, yes! ” interrupted the Indian as soon as the forest 
noises fell upon his ear; “ that humming you hear must come 
thence. Pa terra ! lights among the trees ! ” 

“Yes, we have just discovered them. What can they 
be?” 

Fires,” answered the Indian. 

“ You think it is not fire-flies ? ” 

“No; the loengos do not show that way. They are real 
fires. There must be people there.” 


LIGHTS AHEAD. 


239 


* Then there is land, and we have at last reached terra 
firma ” 

“ The Lard be praised for that,” reverently exclaimed the 
Irishman. “ Our throubles will soon be over.” 

“ May be not, may be not,” answered the MunduruciS, in i 
voice that betrayed both doubt and apprehension. 

“ Why not, Munday ? ” asked Trevannion. “ If it be fire* 
we see, surely they are on the shore; and kindled by men. 
There should be some settlement where we can obtain as¬ 
sistance ? ” 

“ Ah, patron ! nothing of all that need follow from their 
being fires; only that there must be men. The fires need 
only be on the shore, and as for the men who made them, 
instead of showing hospitality, just as like they may take a 
fancy to eat us.” 

“ Eat us ! you mean that they may be cannibals ? ” 

“Just so, patron. Likely as not. It’s good luck,” pur¬ 
sued the tapuyo, looking around, “ the wind went down, else 
we might have been carried too close. I must swim towards 
yon lights, and see what they are, before we go any nearer. 
Will you go with me, young master?” 

“ O, certainly ! ” replied Richard, to whom the question 
was addressed. 

“ Well, then,” continued the tapuyo, speaking to the others, 
“ you must not make any loud noise while we are gone. 
We are not so very distant from those fires, — a mile or 
thereabout; and the water carries the sound a long ways. 
If it be enemies, and they should hear us, there would be no 
chance of escaping from them. Come, young master, there’s 
not a minute to spare. It must be very near morning. If 
we discover danger, we shall have but little time to get out 
of its way in the darkness; and that would be our only hope. 
Come! follow me! ” 

As the Indian ceased speaking, he slipped gently down 
into the water, and swam off to the two lights whose gleam 
appeared every moment more conspicuous- 


210 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


“ Don’t be afraid, Rosetta,” said Richard, as he parted from 
his cousin. “ I warrant it ’ll turn out to be some plantation 
on the bank, with a house with lights shining through the 
windows, and white people inside, where we ’ll all be kindlj 
received, and get a new craft to carry us down to Para 
Good by for the present! We’ll soon be back again with 
good news.” 

So saying, he leaped into the water and swam off in the 
wake of the tapuyo. 


CHAPTER LXXXI. 

AN AERIAL VILLAGE. 

T HE swimmers had not made many hundred yards when 
they saw beyond doubt that the forest was not far off 
It was even nearer than they had at first imagined, the dark¬ 
ness having deceived them ; and perhaps the log may have 
drifted nearer while they were under the impression that 
they lay becalmed. 

At all events, they were now scarcely a quarter of a mile 
from the forest, which they knew stretched along the horizon 
as far as they could have seen had it been daylight. They 
could only just distinguish a dark belt or line rising above 
the surface of the water before them ; but that this extended 
right and left to a far distance could be told from the sounds 
that came from it. There was the hum of tree-crickets and 
cicadas, the gluck of toads and frogs, the screams of aquatic 
birds, the hooting of owls, and the strange plaintive calls of 
the goat-suckers, of which several species inhabit the Gapo 
forests; the whip-poor-will and the “ willy-come-go ” all the 
night long giving utterance to their monotonous melody 
Harsher still were the cries proceeding from the throats of 




AN AERIAL VILLAGE. 


241 


howling monkeys, with now and then the melancholy moan* 
ing of the aV, as it moved slowly through the branches of the 
embaiiba (cecropia-tree). All these sounds, and a score of 
other kinds,— some produced by insects and reptiles of un¬ 
known species, — were blended in that great choir of nature 
which fills the tropical forest with its midnight music. 

The two swimmers, however, paid no attention to this 
fact; their whole thoughts being occupied by the lights, that, 
as they advanced, grew every moment more conspicuous. 
There was no longer any doubt about these being the blaze 
of fires. It was simply a question of where the fires were 
burning, and who had kindled them. 

The young Paraense supposed them to be upon the shore 
of the lagoa. About this, however, his companion expressed 
a doubt. They did not seem to burn steadily, their discs 
appearing now larger and now less. Sometimes one would 
go out altogether, then blaze up afresh, while another was as 
suddenly extinguished. The younger of the two swimmers 
expressed astonishment at this intermittence, which his com¬ 
panion easily explained. The fires, he said, were placed at 
some distance from the edge of the forest, among the trees, 
and it was by some tree-trunk now and then intervening that 
the illusion was caused. 

Silently the swimmers approached, and in due time they 
glided in under the shadow of the thick foliage, and saw the 
fires more distinctly. To the astonishment of Richard — for 
the tapuyo did not seem, at all astonished — they did not ap¬ 
pear to be on the ground, but up in the air! The Paraense 
at first supposed them to have been kindled upon the top of 
some eminence ; but, on scant ing them more closely, he saw 
that this could not be the case Their gleaming red light fell 
upon water shining beneath over which, it was clear, they 
were in some way suspended. 

As their eyes became accustomed to the glare, the swim* 
mers could make out. that the fires were upon a sort of scaf 
II p 


242 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


fold raised several feet above the water, and supported by 
the trunks of the trees. Other similar scaffolds could be 
seen, on which no fires had been kindled, — from the fact, no 
doubt, that their occupants were not yet astir. 

By the blaze human figures were moving to and fro, and 
others were on the platforms near by, which were more dimly 
illuminated; some entering, some coming forth from “ tol- 
dos,” or sheds, that stood upon them. Hammocks could be 
seen suspended from tree to tree, some empty, and some still 
holding a sleeper. 

All this was, seen at a single glance, while at the same time 
were heard voices, that had been hitherto drowned by the 
forest choir, but could now be distinguished as the voices of 
men, women, and children,—such as might be heard in some 
rural hamlet, whose inhabitants were about bestirring them¬ 
selves for their daily avocations. 

The tapuyo, gliding close up to the Paraense, whispered 
in his ear, “ A malocca ! ” 

“An Indian village! ” Richard rejoined. “ We’ve reached 
tierra Jirme, then ? ” 

“ Not a bit of it, young master. If the dry land had been 
near, those fires would n’t be burning among the tree-tops.” 

“ At all events, we are fortunate in falling in with this 
curious malocca, suspended between heaven and earth. Are 
we not so ? ” 

“ That depends on who they are that inhabit it. It may 
be that we’ve chanced upon a tribe of cannibals.” 

“ Cannibals ! Do you think there are such in the Gapo ? ” 

“ There are savages in the Gapo who would torture before 
killing, — you, more especially, whose skins are white. They 
remember, with bitterness, what first drove them to make 
their home in the midst of the water forests, — the white 
slave-hunters. They have reason to remember it; for the 
cruel chase is still kept up. If this be a malocca of Muras, 
the sooner we get away, the safer. They would show yen 


A SLOW RETREAT. 


243 


whites no mercy, and less than mercy to me, a red man like 
themselves. We Mundurucus a~e their deadliest enemies. 
Now, you lie still, and listen. Let me hear what they are 
saying. I kno\* the Mura tongue. If I can catch a word it 
will be sufficient. Hush ! ” 

Not long had they been listening, when the Indian started, 
an expression of anxiety suddenly overspreading his featjres, 
as his companion could perceive by the faint light of the 
distant fires. 

“ As I expected,” said he, “ they are Muras. We must, be 
gone, without a moment’s loss of time. J*. will be as much as 
we can do to paddle the log out of sigb* before day breaks. 
If we don’t succeed in doing so, we are *11 lost. Once seen, 
their canoes would be too quick for us. Back, back to th* 
monguba! ” 


CHAPTER LXX&TI. 

A SLOW RETREAT: IX THE ARCADE. 

T HEIR report spread consternation among the crew. 

Trevanmon, incredulous of the existence of such blood¬ 
thirsty savages as Munday represented the Muras to be, wa* 
disposed to treat it as an exaggeration. The young Paraense- 
who, when in his father’s house, had met many of the up-riv¬ 
er traders, and heard them conversing on this very theme, was 
able to indorse what the Mundurucii said. It was well known 
to the traders that there were tribes of wild Indians inhabiting 
the Gapo lands, who during the season of the inundation made 
their home among the tree-tops, — that some of these were 
cannibals, and all of them savages of a most ferocious type, 
with whom an encounter in their native whds, bv any par¬ 
ty not strong enough to resist them, might both dan¬ 

gerous and deadly. 



244 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


There was no time to argue; and without further opposition 
the ex-miner himself sprang to one of the paddles, the tapuyo 
taking the other. They had no idea of going back across the 
lagoa. To have proceeded in that direction would have 
been to court discovery. With such slow progress as 
theirs, a mile would be about all they could make before 
daybreak; and, out on the open water, their craft would be 
distinguishable at three times that distance. The course 
counselled by the tapuyo was to keep at first parallel to 
the line of the trees; and then enter among these as soon 
as the dawn began. 

As the party retreated, not two, but ten fires were seen 
gleaming among the trees, filling the forest with their bright 
coruscation. The tapuyo explained that each new light de¬ 
noted the uprising of a fresh family, until the whole malocca 
was astir. The fires were kindled to cook the breakfast of 
the Indians. Notwithstanding this domestic design, our ad¬ 
venturers looked back upon them with feelings of apprehen¬ 
sion ; for they were not without fears that, roasted over those 
very fires, they might furnish the savages with the material for 
a cannibal repast! 

To all appearance never did the ceiba go slower, — never 
lie so dull upon the water. Despite the vigorous straining of 
strong arms, it scarcely seemed to move. The sail was of no 
service, as there was not a breath of air, but was rather an ob¬ 
struction ; and, seeing this, Mozey let loose the halyards and 
gently lowered it. . 

They had hardly made half a mile from the point of start¬ 
ing, when they saw the dawn just appearing above the tops of 
the trees. They were upon the equator itself, where between 
dawn and daylight there is but a short interval of time. 
Knowing this, the craft was turned half round, and pulled 
towards a place of concealment. As they moved on to 
make it, they could see the sunlight stealing over the sur¬ 
face of the water, and the fires becoming paler at its ap 


A SLOW RETREAT. 


24o 


pioach. In ten minutes more, daylight would be upon 
them! 

It was now a struggle against time, — a trial of speed between 
the ceiba and the sun, — both slowly approaching a critical 
point in their course. Trevannion and the tapuyo plied 
the paddles as men rowing for their lives and the lives of 
others dear to them. They almost felt as if the sun fa¬ 
vored them; for he not only seemed to suspend his rising 
but to sink back in his course. Perhaps it was only the 
shadow of the trees, under which they had now entered. 
At all events, they were in the midst of obscurity, propel¬ 
ling the dead-wood into the embouchure of an igarape, 
overshadowed with drooping trees, that, like a dark cavern, 
promised them a hiding-place. 

At the moment of entering, it was so dark they could not 
tell how far the opening extended. In this uncertainty they 
suspended the stroke of their paddles, and suffered the ceiba 
to come to a standstill. As yet they had no other light than 
that afforded by the fire-flies that flitted under about the trees. 
But these were of the large species, known as Cocuyds 
{Elater noctilucm), one of which, when held over the page 
of a printed book, enables a person to read ; and as there were 
many of them wandering about, their united sparkle enabled 
our adventurers to make out that the creek was of very lira 
ited extent. 

Gradually, as the sun rose higher, his light fell gently glim¬ 
mering through the leaves, and showed that the arcade was a 
cul de sac , extending only about a hundred yards into the 
labyrinth of branches and parasitical plants. They had en¬ 
tered, so to speak, a court through which there was no thor¬ 
oughfare; and there they must remain. They could only 
get out of it by taking to the tree-tops, or else by returning 
to the open lagoa. But they had had enough of travelling 
through the tree-tops, while to abandon the craft that had 
carried them so comfortably, and that might still avail them, 
was not to be thought of. 


246 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


As to returning to the open water, that would be like de¬ 
livering themselves into the very jaws of the danger they 
were desirous to avoid ; for, once seen by the savages, there 
would not be the slightest chance of escape. They were 
provided with canoes moored among the tree-trunks that 
formed the supports of their aerial habitations. Clumsy 
structures enough; but, no matter how clumsy or slow, they 
were swifter than the dead-wood; and in the event of a chase 
the latter would be easily overhauled and captured. Only 
one course offered any prospect of safety, — to remain all day 
in the arcade, trusting that none of the savages might have 
any business near the place. At night they could steal out 
again, and by an industrious use of their paddles put a safer 
distance between themselves and the dangerous denizens of 
the malocca. 

Having determined on this, they drew their craft into the 
darkest corner, and, making it fast to a tree, prepared to pass 
the time in the pleasantest possible manner. 

There was not much pleasure sitting in that silent, sombre 
shadow ; especially as they were in dread that its silence 
might be disturbed by the wild shout of a savage. They had 
taken every precaution to escape discovery. The little fire 
left burning upon the log had been extinguished by Munday, 
immediately on seeing the two lights first described. They 
would fain have rekindled it, to cook a breakfast; but fearing 
that the smoke might be seen, they chose that morning to 
eat the charqui raw. 

After breakfast they could do nothing but keep their seats, 
and await, with such patience as they might command, the 
development of events. It was not all darkness around them. 
As the little creek penetrated the trees in a straight line, they 
commanded a view of a portion of thelagoa. Their situation 
was very similar to that of a person inside a grotto or cavern 
on the sea-shore, which commands a view of the ocean 
stretching away from its mouth, the bright space gradually 


A SLOW RETREAT. 


247 


widening as it recedes in the distance. Though themselves 
seated in the midst of obscurity, they could see brightness be¬ 
yond the opening of the bay, — the sun shining with a gold¬ 
en gleam upon the water. 

On this their eyes were kept, — not in the hope of seeing 
anything there that might give them gratification, but rather 
desiring that nothing should be seen. Notwithstanding the 
obscurity that surrounded them, they could not divest themr 
selves of the idea that one passing the entrance of the creek 
could see them distinctly enough; and this kept them in 
constant apprehension. 

They had no need to keep watch in any other direction. 
Behind them, and on each side, extended the unbroken 
wall of tree-tops, shaded with llianas, worked and woven 
together into a network that appeared impenetrable even to 
the wild animals of the forest. Who would have looked fbr 
m enemy in human shape to come that way ? 

Up to noon no incident occurred to disturb the tranquillity 
of the place or in any way add to their apprehensions. Now 
and then a bird appeared, winging its way over the bright 
band illumined by the sun, or poising itself for a moment and 
then plunging downward upon some prey it had detected 
in the water. All these appearances only increased their 
confidence; as the presence of the birds, undisturbed at their 
ordinary avocations, indicated the absence of human beings. 

The same conclusion was drawn from the behavior of a 
brace of large fish-cows, at some distance outside, directly 
in front of the arcade. When first noticed, they were en¬ 
gaged in some sort of rude gambol, at which they continued 
for a full half-hour. After that, one of them swam off, while 
the other, laying itself along the water, appeared to go to 
sleep. 

It was a tantalizing sight to the eyes of the old tapuyo* 
and it was just as much as he could do to restrain himself 
from swimming out and attacking the sleeper, either with his 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


2r±6 

knife 01 the pashuba spear. The danger, however, would 
have been too great, not from a conflict with the cow, but of 
being seen by the sharp-eyed savages. 

In view of this, the Mundurucu resisted the temptation, 
and consented, though not without reluctance, to let the 
peixe-boi continue its slumbers uninterrupted. 


CHAPTER LXXXIII. 

FOLLOWING THE FLOAT. 

U NFORTUNATELY for our adventurers, as well as for 
the cow-fish itself, other eyes than those of the tapuyc 
had been watching the gambols of the two cetaceans, and 
had paid particular attention to the one now taking its siesta 
on the surface. Neither Munday nor his companions had any 
suspicion of this ; for, excepting the peixe-boi itself, no living 
creature was in sight. Having observed it for a considerable 
length of time, still reclining in its attitude of repose, they 
had almost ceased to think of it; when all at once it was 
seen to spring clear out of the water, and, after making two 
or three grotesque plunges, sink suddenly below the sur¬ 
face ! 

The action was too violent and unnatural to be voluntary. 
The peixe-boi had evidently been assailed in its sleep by 
some enemy, from which it was but too eager to retreat. 

But what could this enemy be ? The tapuyo knew ot 
nothing under the water that was likely to have made the at¬ 
tack. There are no sharks nor swordfish in the Gapo, and 
an alligator would scarcely dare to meddle with a creature 
of such enormous dimensions. Much less could an enemy 
have come from the air. There is no bird in South America, 



FOLLOWING THE FLOAT. 


249 


not even the great condor itself, that would think of swoop* 
ing down upon a peixe-boi. 

Some of the party said that they had seen something 
glancing towards the cow-fish at the moment it made the 
leap, — something that looked like a flash of lightning! 
What could that be ? There was no cloud in the sky, no 
thunder. It could not have been lightning 

“Pa terra!” exclaimed the tapuyo, in evident alarm. “I 
know what it was. Keep quiet or we are lost! ” 

“ What was it ? ” 

“ A harpoon, — look yonder, patron ! Don’t you see the 
water in motion where the juaroud went down?” 

“Certainly I do. That’s very natural. The waves are 
caused by the plunging of the animal.” 

“The waves! not that; look again. You see a thin rip¬ 
ple. There’s a cord making it. Yonder’s the float! and 
close behind that you will see something more. There, there 
he is! ” 

Sure enough, there was a rippling line caused by a cord 
drawn rapidly along the surface; at the end of this a small 
buoy of wood dragged rapidly after, and close behind a canoe, 
with an Indian in it, the Indian in a bent attitude, plying his 
paddle, and evidently in pursuit of the wounded cow-fish. 
The log was a “ float,” the line drawing it along was at its 
other end attached to a harpoon, and that harpoon had its 
barbs buried in the body of the peixe-boi! 

Such a specimen of a human being, even for a savage, 
none of the spectators — the tapuyo perhaps excepted — had 
ever beheld. He was as naked as if he had never been out¬ 
side the Garden of Eden ; and this'very nakedness displayed 
a form that, but for the absence of a hairy covering, more re¬ 
sembled that of a monkey than a man. A body extremely 
attenuated, yet pot-bellied, too ; a pair of long, thin arms, with 
legs to match, the latter knotted at''the knees, the former 
balled at the elbows; a huge head, seemingly larger from iti 
ll * 


250 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


mop of matted hair; a face with high cheeks and sunken 
eyes, — gave him an appearance more demoniac than human. 
No wonder that little Rosa screamed as he came in sight, 
and that dismay exhibited itself on the features of several 
others of the party. 

“Hush!” whispered Munday. “ Silence all! Not a word, 
or we shall be seen, and then not he, but perhaps a hundred 
of his tribe- Hush ! ” 

Fortunately the scream of Rosita had been only slight; 
and the savage, in eager pursuit of the peixe-boi, had not 
heard it, for he continued the chase without pause. 

He had no difficulty in discovering the whereabouts of his 
game. The float guided him; for, no matter where the cow 
went, the tether was still attached to her, and the movement 
of the log along the surface betrayed to the eye of her pursuer 
every change of direction. 

Two or three times, the savage, dropping his paddle, was 
enabled to lay hold of the line and commence hauling in; 
but the great strength of the juaroua, as yet unexhausted, 
proved too much.for him, and he was compelled to let go ol* 
be pulled out of his craft. 

The latter was but a frail concern, of the smallest and rud¬ 
est kind, — consisting of a shell of bark, gathered up at both 
ends and tied by sipos, so as to give it somewhat the shape 
of an ordinary canoe. Even when paddling with all his 
strength, its owner could make no great speed; but great 
speed was not required in the chase of a peixe-boi with a 
barbed spear sticking through its skin and rankling between 
its ribs. It only required patience, until the huge creature 
should become exhausted with its struggles and enfeebled by 
the loss of blood. Then might the conquest be completed 
without either difficulty or danger. 

For twenty minutes or more the chase continued; the float 
being dragged hither and thither, until it had crossed the wa> 
ter in almost every direction. Sometimes both log and canoe 



A CANNIBAL CAPTURED. 


25 ) 


were in sight, sometimes only one of them, and s.metimes 
neither, — at such times the cow-fish having passed far be¬ 
yond the limits of clear water visible to the spectators. 

On the last of these occasions, several minutes had elapsed 
before the chase came again in sight. Our adventurers were 
in hopes they would see no more of either fish, float, or fol¬ 
lower. The interest they might otherwise have taken iu 
such a curious spectacle was destroyed by the thought of the 
danger that would result in their being discovered. 

Just as they had begun to congratulate themselves that 
they were to be spared this misfortune, the float once more 
came before their eyes, still being dragged along the surface, 
but with much less rapidity than when last seen. The man¬ 
atee was coming into the arcade, the canoe following close 
after, with the hideous savage eagerly plying his paddle, 
while, with outstretched neck and wild, scintillating orbs, he 
peered inquiringly into the darkness before him! 

There was no chance to escape discovery. 


CHAPTER LXXXIV. 


A CANNIBAL CAPTURED. 


^HE fears of those standing upon the ceiba could not 



I have been greater than that of the savage himself, as 
his canoe came bumping against the dead-wood, and he saw 
standing above him a crowd of human forms. A wild cry 
escaning from his lips expressed his terror and astonishment. 
Then a second, in louder tone, was intended to give the 
alarm to his kindred, who might possibly hear it. 

With an Indian, as with the wild animals, presence of mind 
is rather an instinct than an act of reason. Instead of being 



252 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


disconcerted by what he saw, and losing time to recover him¬ 
self, the Mura at once plunged his paddle into the water, and 
commenced beating backward, assisted by the recoil of th6 
canoe, which, on striking the dead-wood, had rebounded from 
it by the violence of the collision. 

In a moment he had sculled himself almost clear of the ar¬ 
cade ; he was already within a few feet of its mouth, and 
would soon be back upon the open lagoa, when he would un¬ 
doubtedly make for the malocca, and bring the whole tribe 
of cannibals upon them. None of the party thought of pur¬ 
suing him. There was an attempt made to seize the canoe 
at the moment of its closing upon the log, but the craft had 
recoiled so suddenly after the collision, and been paddled so 
rapidly out of reach, that it all ended in Tipperary Tom get¬ 
ting soused in the water, and nearly drowned before he could 
be dragged out again. The attempt at seizure might have 
had a different result had Munday been among those who 
made it. But he was not. 

He was nowhere to be seen upon the log, nor anywhere 
else ! What had become of him ? None of them could say. 
Little Rosa was the only one who could give any explana¬ 
tion of his absence. She thought she had seen him slip off 
at the back of the log, while the canoe was coming on in 
front. She was not sure, it was so dark upon that side; 
and she had been too much engaged in regarding the ap¬ 
proach of the savage. 

Had he made off to conceal himself among the tree-tops ? 
Had he gone to secure his own safety, and abandoned his 
friends to their fate ? They could not think this. Such a 
cowardly act would have been contrary to all they knew of 
the brave Mundurucu, whose faithfulness had so many times 
been put to the severest test. No one could account for it. 

Just at that critical moment when the canoe had reached 
the mouth of the arcade, a dark round thing, like a human 
head, rose up in the water some six feet before it, and then 


A CANNIBAL CAPTURED. 


253 


another dark thing, wonderfully like a human hand, shot up 
beside the head, followed by a long and sinewy arm. The 
hand was seen to strike upward and clutch the canoe close 
by the stem; and then the craft went down, one end under 
water, while the other flew up into the air; then there was a 
capsize, — the savage, with a shriek and a loud plash, falling 
out; and then there was a struggle, — now under water, now 
above the surface, — accompanied by strange choking noises, 
as if two enormous alligators were engaged in a conflict of 
life and death. 

As the astonished spectators continued to gaze upon the 
scene, — still but imperfectly comprehended by them, — they 
saw that the combatants were coming nearer, as if the strug¬ 
gle was being carried on towards the end of the arcade, and 
was likely to terminate where they stood. 

And there it did end, immediately after, by the missing 
tapuyo making his appearance alongside the log, and drag¬ 
ging beside him the man who had made that involuntary 
“ header ” from the canoe. 

The latter no longer resisted. The knife-blade glittering 
between Munday’s teeth — a taste of whose quality the sav¬ 
age had already experienced — hindered him from offering 
any further resistance ; and as they came up to the log, the 
two were swimming side by side peaceably, only that the ac¬ 
tion of one was evidently involuntary, while the other was 
directing it. 

It was more like the companionship of a policeman and a 
thief, than that of two swimmers who chanced to be going the 
same way. One arm of the Mura was clutched by the Mun- 
durucu, as if the captive was partly supported while being 
dragged along. 

“Reach out there, patron, and pull him up!” cried Mun 
day, as he conducted his captive alongside the log. “ I don’t 
want to kill th*» animal, though that might be the safest way 
in the end.” 


254 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


“ No, in, don’t do that! ” returned Trevannion, who now, 
along with all the others, had arrived at a full comprehension 
of the affair. “We can keep him secure enough ; and, if his 
shouts have not been heard, we need not fear having him 
along with us.” As the patron spoke,' he reached down, and, 
laying hold of the captive, drew him close to the side of the 
dead-wood. Then, assisted by Munday in the water and 
Mozey upon the log, the Mura was hoisted aboard. 

Once upon the dead-wood, a more abject wretch than the 
captive Mura could not have been found. He trembled from 
head to foot, — evidently believing that he was about to be 
killed, and perhaps eaten. He had only consented to bo 
taken in the knowledge— which Munday had in some way 
conveyed to him — that resistance could but end in instant 
death ; and there are few, even amongst the most reckless of 
savages, who will not yield to this. 

As he stood dripping upon the dead-wood, a red stream, 
trickling down his wet skin from a knife-wound in the shoul¬ 
der, explained how the tapuyo had made known to him the 
idleness of resistance. It was a first stab, and not dangerous; 
but it had given a foretaste of what was to follow, had the 
struggle been kept up. After receiving this hint, the Mura 
had surrendered; and the after commotion was caused by his 
being towed through the water by a captor who was required 
to use all his strength and energy in supporting him. 

While the canoe-man was advancing up the arcade, the 
Mundurucu, instead of waiting till he came near, had dropped 
quietly into the water, and swum in an outward direction, as 
if intending to meet the manatee-hunter, face to face. This 
he actually did, — met and passed him, but without being seen. 
The darkness favored him, as did also the commotion already 
caused by the wounded cow-fish, which in its passage up the 
creek had left large waves upon the water. These, striking 
against the trunks of the trees, created a still further disturb¬ 
ance, amidst which the swimmer’s dark face and long swarthy 
locks could not have been easily distinguished. 


A CANNIBAL CAPTURED. 


255 


Supporting himself by a branch, he awaited the return of 
the savage, — knowing that as soon as the latter set eyes 
upon the others he would instantly beat a retreat. All 
turned out just as the tapuyo had anticipated ; and just as he 
had designed did he deal with the canoe-man. 

In all this, the only thing that appeared singular was the 
tapuyo’s taking so much pains to go out near the entrance, 
instead of boldly laying hold of the canoe as it passed him on 
its way inwards, or indeed of waiting for it upon the log, — 
where any one of the others, had he been a strong swimmer 
and armed with a knife, might have effected the capture. 

Munday, however, had good reasons for acting as he had 
done. While the canoe was approaching, who could tell that 
it would come close up ? It had done so, even to striking 
the dead-wood with its bow; but Munday could not rely 
upon such a chance as that. Had the savage discovered 
their presence a little sooner, he would have turned and 
sculled off, before any swimmer could have come up with 
him. 

A similar reason was given for gliding stealthily past, and 
getting on the other side. Had the Munduructi acted other¬ 
wise, he might have been perceived before he could seize the 
?anoe, and so give time for the manatee-hunter to make off. 
As this last would have been a terrible contingency, render¬ 
ing their discovery almost a certainty, the cunning old man 
knew how important it was that no mismanagement should 
occur in the carrying out of his design. 

“If that rascal’s shout lias been heard,” said Trevannion, 
‘there will be but little chance of our escaping capture. 
From what you saw, I suppose there are hundreds of these 
hideous creatures. And we, without weapons, without the 
means either of attack or defence, what could we do ? There 
would be nothing for it but to surrender ourselves as pris¬ 
oners.” 

The Mundurucu was not able to offer a word of encour 


256 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


agement. To have attempted defence against a whole trib* 
of savages, armed^ no doubt, with spears and poisoned ar¬ 
rows, would have been to rush madly on death. 

“ It is fortunate,” continued the ex-miner, “ that you have 
not killed him.” 

“Why, patron?” demanded the tapuyo, apparently in 
some surprise. 

“ It would have made them revengeful; and if we have 
the ill luck to be taken, they would have been the more 
certain to destroy us.” 

“ No, no,” answered the Indian, —“ not a bit more cer¬ 
tain to do that. If, as you say, we have the bad luck to 
become their captives, we shall be killed all the same. 
Their old revenge will be strong enough for that; and if 
not their revenge, they have an appetite that will insure 
our destruction. You understand, patron ? ” 

This conversation was carried on in a low tone, and only 
between Trevannion and the tapuyo. 

“ O Heaven ! ” groaned the ex-miner, turning his eyes 
upon his children. “It would be a fearful fate for — for all 
of us.” 

“ The more reason for doing all we can to avoid falling 
into their hands.” 

“ But what can we do ? Nothing ! If they discover our 
hiding-place before nightfall, then we shall surely be taken.” 

“ Admit that, master; but if they do not — ” 

“ If they do not, you think there would be some hope of 
our getting away from them ? ” 

“ A good hope, — a good hope.” 

“ On the raft ? ” 

“ Better than that, patron.” 

“ You have some plan ? ” 

“ I’ve been thinking of one; but it ’s no use to speak of 
it, so long as we are in doubt this way. If we are left un. 
molested until night, then, patron, it will be time to declare 


A CANNIBAL CAPTURED. 


257 


it. Could you but promise me that this screecher has n’t 
been heard, I think I could promise you that by midnight 
we should not only be beyond the reach of his bloodthirsty 
fellows, but in a fair way of getting out of our troubles al¬ 
together. Ha! ) r onder’s something must be looked to; I 
forgot that.” 

“ What?” 

“ The igarite. How near it was to betraying us! Its 
course must be stopped this instant.” And he once more 
slipped down into the water and swam away. 

The canoe, out of which the Mura had been so unceremo¬ 
niously spilled, and which was now bottom upwards, was 
drifting outward. It was already within a few feet of the 
entrance, and in another minute would have been caught by 
the breeze stirring beyond the branches of the trees. Once 
outside, it would soon have made way into the open lagoa, 
and would have formed a conspicuous mark for the eyes of 
the malocca. 

Munday swam silently, but with all his strength, towards 
it. It must be reached before it could drift outside; and for 
some time there was apprehension in the minds of the specta¬ 
tors that this might not be done. The only one of them that 
would have been gratified by a failure was the captive Mura. 
But the wretch showed no sign of his desire, knowing that 
there would be danger in his doing so. He was held fast in 
the suong arms of the negro; while Tipperary Tom stood 
near, ready to run him through with the spear in case of his 
making any attempt to escape. 

Their apprehensions soon came to an end. The tapuyo 
overtook it before it had cleared the screening of tree-tops; 
and, laying hold of a piece of cord which was attached to its 
stem, took it in tow. In less than five minutes after, it might 
have been seen right side up, lying like a tender alongside the 
grand monguba 


258 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER LXXXV. 


A DAY SPENT IN SHADOW. 

LL day long did our adventurers abide in silence, keep* 



A ing close in their shadowy retreat. Now and then 
only the Mundurucu swam to the entrance of the arcade; 
and, screened by the trees, took a survey of the open water 
outside. He saw only a canoe, larger than that he had cap¬ 
tured, with three men in it, out upon the lagoa, about two 
hundred yards from the edge, and opposite the malocca, 
which could not itself be seen, as it was some distance back 
among the trees; but, from the bearings he had taken on the 
night previous, the tapuyo knew where it lay. 

He watched the canoe so long as it remained in sight. 
The gestures of the savages who were in it showed that they 
were occupied in fishing, though what sort of fish they might 
be taking in the flooded lake Munday could not guess. They 
stayed about an hour; and then, paddling their craft back 
among the trees, were seen no more. 

This gratified the tapuyo and those to whom he made his 
report. It was evidence that the harpooner had come out 
alone, and that, while striking the cow-fish, he had not been 
observed by any of his people. Had that incident been wit¬ 
nessed, every canoe in possession of the tribe would have in¬ 
stantly repaired to the spot. 

Since the killing of a juaroud is an event,of rare occurrence 
in the season of the vasante, when it does transpire it causes 
the same joyful excitement in a malocca of Amazonian In¬ 
dians as the capture of a great walrus would in a winter vil¬ 
lage of Esquimaux. It was, therefore, quite clear to our ad¬ 
venturers, that no suspicion had been aroused as to the cause 
of the harpooner’s absence from the malocca, and so they 
were enabled to endure their imprisonment with cahnej 


A DAY SPENT IN SHADOW. 


259 


confidence, and higher hopes of finally effecting their es¬ 
cape. 

How long would this state of things continue ? How long 
might the Mura be away before his absence should excite 
suspicion and lead to a search ? 

As to such a thing as this,” said Munday, pointing con¬ 
temptuously to the shivering captive, “ he ’ll no more be 
missed than would a coaita monkey that had strayed from its 
troop. If he’s got a wife, which I don’t suppose he has, 
she ’ll be only too glad to get rid of him. As for any one of 
them coming after him through affection, as you call it, there 
you ’re all out, patron. Among Muras there’s no such feel¬ 
ing as that. If they’d seen him strike the juaroua it might 
have been different. Then their stomachs would have brought 
them after him, like a flock of hungry vultures. But they 
haven’t seen him; and unless chance guides some one this 
way we need n’t be in any fear for to-day. As for the mor¬ 
row, if they ’ll only stay clear till then, I think I can keep 
my promise, and we shall not only be beyond reach of Mu¬ 
ras, but out of this wretched lagoa altogetheh” 

“ But you spoke of a plan, good Munday; you have not 
yet told us what it is.” 

“ Wait, master,” he rejoined ; “ wait till midnight, till the 
lights go out in the Mura village, and perhaps a little longer. 
Then you shall know my plan by seeing it carried into exe¬ 
cution.” 

“ But does it not require some preparations ? If so, why 
not make them while it is daylight? It is now near night; 
and you may not have time.” 

“ Just so, patron ; but night is just the preparation I want, 
-— that and this knife.” 

Here Munday exhibited his shining blade, which caused 
the Mura captive to tremble all over, thinking that his time 
was come. During all the day he had not seen them eat. 
They had no chance to kindle a fire for cooking purposes. 


200 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


apprehensive that the smoke, seen above the tree-tops, might 
betray them to the enemy. Some of them, with stronger 
stomachs than the rest, had gnawed a little of the charqut 
raw. Most had eaten nothing, preferring to Wait till they 
should have an opportunity of cooking it, which the Mundu- 
rucd had promised them they should have before morning of 
the next day. Their abstinence was altogether misunder¬ 
stood by the Mura. The wretch thought they were nursing 
their hunger to feed upon his flesh. 

Could he have seen himself as he was in their eyes, he 
might have doubted the possibility of getting up such an ap¬ 
petite. They had taken due precautions to prevent his mak¬ 
ing his escape. Tied hand and foot by the toughest sipos 
that could be procured, he was also further secured by being 
fastened to the monguba. A strong lliana, twisted into a 
rope, and with a turn round one of the buttress projections of 
the roots, held him, though this was superfluous, since any 
attempt to slide off* into the water must have terminated by 
his going to the bottom, with neither hands nor feet free. 

They were determined, however, on making things doubly 
sure, as they knew that his escape would be the signal for 
their destruction. Should he succeed in getting free, he 
would not need his canoe; he could get back to his village 
without that, for, as Munday assured them, he could travel 
through the trees with the agility of an ape, or through the 
water with the power of a fish; and so could all his people, 
trained to the highest skill both in climbing and swimming, 
from the very nature of their existence. 

There was one point upon which Trevannion had had 
doubts. That was, whether they were really in such danger 
from the proximity of this people as Munday would have 
them believe. But the aspect of this savage, who could now 
be contemplated closely, and with perfect coolness, was fast 
solving these doubts; for no one could have looked in his 
face and noted the hideous expression there depicted without 


THE CRY OF THE JAGUAR. 


261 


n feeling of fear, not to say horror. If his tribe were all like 
him, and the tapuyo declared that many of them were still 
uglier, — they must have formed a community which no sane 
man would have entered except upon compulsion. 

No wonder, then, that our adventurers took particular 
pains to keep their captive along with them, since a sure 
result of his escape would be that they would furnish a feast 
for the Mura village. Had he been left to himself, Munday 
vould have taken still surer precautions against his getting 
off; and it was only in obedience to the sternest commands of 
Trevannion that he was withheld from acting up to the old 
adage, “ Dead men tell no tales.” 


CHAPTER LXXXVI. 


THE CRY OF THE JAGUAR. 


f 1HE night came on without any untoward incident; but 



JL no sooner was the sun fairly below the horizon than 
they became aware of a circumstance that caused them seri¬ 
ous annoyance, if not absolute alarm. They saw the full 
round moon rising, and every indication of the most brilliant 
moonlight. The Mundurucii, more than any of them, was 
chagrined at this, because of the importance of having a dark 
night for carrying out his scheme, whatever it was. In fact, 
he had declared that a dark night was indispensable, or, at 
all events, one very different from that which the twilight 
promised them. 

The original intention had been, as soon as night set in, to 
get the dead-wood once more into the open water, and then, 
if the wind should be in their favor, to bend the sail and 
glide off in any direction that would take them away from 



262 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


the malocca. If there should be no wind, they could use the 
paddles and creep round the edge of the lagoa, going as far 
as might be before another sun should expose them to view. 
It was doubtful whether they could row the dead-wood, be¬ 
fore daybreak, beyond eyeshot of the savages; but if not, 
they could again seek concealment among the tree-tops, and 
wait for night to continue their retreat. 

This intention was likely to be defeated by the clear shin¬ 
ing of a tropical moon. As she rose higher in the heavens, 
the lagoa became all white effulgence; and as there was not 
the slightest ripple upon the water, any dark object passing 
along its surface would have been seen almost as distinctly 
as by day. Even the little canoe could not have been car¬ 
ried outside the edge of the trees without the danger of being 
seen from afar. 

That the entrance to the arcade and the tree-line outside 
could be seen from the malocya was a thing already deter¬ 
mined, for the tapuyo had tested it during the day. Through 
the foliage in front of the village he could see here and 
there some portions of the scaffoldings, with the toldos erected 
upon them, while its position was also determined by the 
smoke rising from the different fires. 

As soon as night had come on, he and the young Para- 
ense had made a reconnoissance, and from the same place 
saw the reflection of the fires upon the water below, and 
the gleaming fires themselves. Of course they who sat or 
stood around them could see them, should they attempt to 
go out with the monguba. This scheme, then, could only 
be resorted to should the moon be obscured, or “ put out,” 
as M unday said, by clouds or fog. 

Munday admitted that his plan might be put in practice, 
without the interposition of either; but in this case it would 
be ten times more perilous, and liable to failure. In any 
case he did not intend to act until midnight. After that, 
•my time would dc before the hour of earliest daybreak. 


THE CRY OF THE JAGUAR. 


263 


Confiding in the craft of the old tapuyo, Trevannion ques* 
tioned him no further, but along with the rest waited as 
patiently as possible for the event. 

The water-forest was once more ringing with its nocturnal 
chorus. Tree-toads and frogs were sending forth their me¬ 
tallic monotones; cicada and lizards were uttering their 
sharp skirling notes, while birds of many kinds, night-hawks 
in the air, strigidce among the trees, and water-fowl out 
upon the bosom of the lagoon, were all responding to one 
another. From afar came lugubrious vociferations from 
the throats of a troop of howling monkeys that had made 
their roost among the branches of some tall, overtopping 
tree ; and once — what was something strange — was heard 
a cry different from all the rest, and on hearing which all 
tne rest suddenly sank into silence. 

That was the cry of the jaguar tiger, the tyrant of the 
South American forest. Munday recognized it on the in 
stant, and so did the others; for they had heard it often 
before, while descending the Solimoes. It would have been 
nothing strange to have heard it on the banks of the mighty 
river, or any of its tributaries. But in the Gapo, it was 
not only strange, but significant, that scream of the jaguar. 
“ Surely,” said Trevannion on hearing it, “ surely we must 
be in the neighborhood of land.” 

“ How, patron ? ” replied the Mundurucu, to whom the 
remark was particularly addressed. u Because we hear the 
voice of the jauarite ? Sometimes the great tiger gets over¬ 
taken by the inundation, and then, like ourselves, has to 
take to the tree-tops. But, unlike us, he can swim when¬ 
ever he pleases, and his instinct soon guides him to the land.. 
Besides, there are places in the Gapo where the land is 
above water, tracts of high ground that during the vasante be¬ 
come islands. In these t\\eja.uarite delights to dwell. No 
fear of his starving there, since he has his victims enclosed, 
as it were, in a prison, and he can all the more conveniently 


264 AFLOA'I IN THE FOREST. 

lay bis claws upon them. The cry of that jauarite is no sure 
sign of dry land. The beast may be twenty miles from terra 
firma.” 

While they were thus conversing, the cry of the jaguar 
once more resounded among the tree-tops, and again was suc¬ 
ceeded by silence on the part of the other inhabitants of the 
forest. 

There was one exception, however; one kind of creatures 
not terrified into stillness by the voice of the great cat, whose 
own voices now heard in the interval of silence, attracted the 
attention of the listeners. They were the Muras. Sent forth 
from the malocca, their shouts came pealing across the water, 
and entered the shadowy aisle where our adventurers sat in 
concealment, with tones well calculated to cause fear; for 
nothing in the Gapo gave forth a harsher or more lugubrious 
chant. 

Munday, however, who had a thorough knowledge of the 
habits of his national enemies, interpreted their tones in e 
different sense, and drew good augury from them. He said 
that, instead of grief, they betokened joy. Some bit of good 
luck had befallen them, such as the capture of a cow-fish, or 
a half-score of monkeys. The sounds signified feasting and 
frolic. There was nothing to denote that the sullen savage 
by their side was missed from among them. Certainly he 
was not mourned in the malocca. 

The interpretation of the tapuyo fell pleasantly upon the ■ 
ears of his auditors, and for a while they felt hopeful. But 
the gloom soon came back, at sight of that brilliant moon, — 
a sight that otherwise should have cheered them, — as she 
flooded the forest with her silvery light, till her rich rays, 
scintillating through the leafy llianas, fell like sparks upon 
the sombre surface of the water arcade. 


THE MOON PUT OU1. 


26 $ 


CHAPTER LXXXVII. 

THE MOON PUT OUT. 

M IDNIGHT came, and still the moon shone too clear 
and bright. 

Munday began to show uneasiness and anxiety. Several 
times had he taken that short swim, like an otter from its 
earth or a beaver from its dome-shaped dwelling, each time 
returning to his companions upon the log, but with no sign 
of his having been gratified by the excursion. About the 
sixth trip since night had set in, he came swimming back to 
the dead-wood with a more pleased expression upon his coun¬ 
tenance. 

“ You’ve seen something that gratifies you ? ” said Trevan- 
nion, interrogatively; “ or heard it, perhaps ? ” 

“ Seen it,” was the laconic reply. 

“What?” 

“ A cloud.” 

“A cloud! Well?” 

“ Not much of a cloud, patron ; no bigger than the spread 
skin of the cow-fish there; but it’s in the east, and therefore 
in the direction of Gran Para. That means much.” 

“ What difference can it make in what direction it is ? ” 

“ Every difference ! If from Gran Para ’tis up the great 
river. Up the great river means rain, — perhaps thunder, 
lightning, a storm. A storm is just what we want.” 

“ O, now I see what you mean. Well ? ” 

“ I must go back to the mouth of the igarape , and take 
another look at the sky. Have patience, patron, and pray 
for me to return with good news.” So saying, the tapuyo 
once again slipped down into the water, and swam towards 
the entrance of the arcade. 

For a full half-hour was he absent; but long before his 

12 


266 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


return the news he was to bring back had been told by signs 
that anticipated him. The moonbeams, hitherto seon strik¬ 
ing here and there through the thinner screen of the foliage, 
had been growing dimmer and dimmer, until they were no 
longer discernible, and uniform darkness prevailed under the 
shadow of the trees. So dark had it become, that, when the 
swimmer returned to the ceiba, they were only warned of his 
approach by the slight plashing of his arms, and the next 
moment he was with them. 

“ The time has come,” said he, “ for carrying out my 
scheme. I ’ve not been mistaken in what I saw. The cloud, 
a little bit ago not bigger than the skin of the juaroufi, will 
soon cover the whole sky. The rags upon its edge are 
already blinding the moon ; and by the time we can get un¬ 
der the scaffolds of the malocca it will be dark enough for our 
purpose.” 

“ What! the scaffolds of the malocca! You intend going 
there? ” 

“ That is the intention, patron.” 

“ Alone?” 

“ No. I want one with me, — the young master.” 

“ But there is great danger, is there not ? ” suggested Tre- 
vannion, “ in going — ” 

“ In going there is,” interrupted the tapuyo; “ but more in 
not going. If we succeed, we shall be all safe, and there’s 
an end of it. If we don’t, we have to die, and that’s the 
other end of it, whatever we may do.” 

“ But why not try our first plan ? It’s now dark enough 
outside. Why can’t we get off upon the raft ? ” 

“ Dark enough, as you say, patron. But you forget that 
it is now near morning. We could n’t paddle this log more 
than a mile before the sun would be shining upon us, and 
then — ” 

“Dear uncle,” interposed the young Paraense, “don’t in. 
terfere with his plans. No doubt he knows what is best to 


AN HOUR OF SUSPENSE. 


267 


be done. If I am to risk my life, it is nothing more than 
we ’re all doing now. Let Munday have his way. No fear 
but we shall return safe. Do, dear uncle ! let him have his 
way.” 

As Munday had already informed them, no preparation 
was needed, — only his knife and a dark night. Both were 
now upon him, the knife in his waist-strap, and the dark 
night over his head. One other thing was necessary to the 
accomplishment of his purpose, — the captured canoe, winch 
was already prepared, laying handy alongside the log. 

^ With a parting salute to all, — silent on the part of the 
tapuyo, but spoken by the young Paraense, a hope of speedy 
return, an assurance of it whispered in the ear of Rosita, — 
the canoe was shoved off, and soon glided out into the open 
lagoa. 


CHAPTER LXXXV III. 


AN HOUR OF SUSPENSE. 


CARCE had the canoe with its living freight faded out of 



sight, when Trevannion repented his rashness in permit¬ 
ting his nephew to risk his life in a scheme so ill understood 
as the tapuyo’s. 

He had no suspicion of the Indian’s good faith. It was not 
that that caused him regret; only a certain compunction for 
having so easily consented to expose to a dread danger the life 
of his brother’s son, — a life intrusted to his care, and for 
which he should be held answerable by that brother, should 
it be his fortune evej* to see him again. 

But it was of no use to indulge in these regrets. They 
were now idle. The act which had caused them was be¬ 
yond recall. The canoe must go on to its destination What 



268 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


was that? Trevannion could not even conjecture. He on 
ly knew that Munday had started for the malocca; but 
his purposo in going there was as much a mystery as 
though he had pretended to have gone on a voyage to 
the moon. 

Trevannion even felt angry with the tapuyo, now that he 
was out of reach, for having concealed the plan of his enter¬ 
prise and the extent of the danger to be encountered. But 
there was now no alternative but to await the return of the 
tapuyo, or the time that would tell he was never more to 
return. 

It had been fixed by the Indian himself, in a speech whis¬ 
pered into the ear of Trevannion as he pushed off* the canoe. 
It was this: “ A word, patron! If we ’re not back before 
daylight, stay where you are till to-morrow night. Then, if it 
be dark, do as we proposed for to-night. Steal out and away. 
But don’t fear of our failing. I only say that for the worst. 
The Mundurucu has no fear. Pa terra! in an hour’s time 
we shall be back, bringing with us what we ’re in need of, 
— something that will carry us clear of our enemies and 
of the Gapo.” 

So the party remained seated on the log. Each had his 
own conjecture about Munday’s plan, though all acknowl¬ 
edged it to be a puzzle. 

The surmise of Tipperary Tom was sufficiently original. 
“I wondher now,” said he, “ if the owld chap manes to set fire 
to their town ! Troth, it’s loike enough that’s what he’s gone 
afther. Masther Dick sayed it was ericted upon scaffolds wid 
bames of wood an’ huts upon them that looked loike the laves 
of threes or dry grass. Shure them would blaze up loike tin- 
dher, an’ create a moighty conflagrayshin.” 

The opinion of Tom’s auditors did not altogether coincide 
with his. To set the malocca on fire, even if such a thin® 
were possible, could do no good. The inhabitants would 
be in no danger from conflagration. They would only have 


AN HOUR OF SUSPENSE. 


269 


jo leap into the flood to save themselves from the fire; and, 
as they could al 1 swim like water-rats, they would soon recover 
a footing among the trees. Besides, they had their great rafts 
and canoes, that would enable them to go wherever they 
wished. They could soon erect other scaffolds, and con¬ 
struct other huts upon them. Moreover, as Munday and 
Richard had informed them, the scaffolds of the malocca 
were placed a score of yards apart. The flames of one 
would not communicate with the other through the green 
foliage of that humid forest. To fire the whole village 
with any chance of success, it would be necessary to have 
an incendiary under each scaffold, all applying the torch 
together. It could not be for that purpose the tapuyo had 
gone forth. 

While engaged in the debate, they got so engrossed by it 
as to become neglectful of a duty enjoined upon them by the 
tapuyo, to keep a strict watch over the captive. It was Tip¬ 
perary Tom and the Mozambique, who had been charged 
with this guardianship. Both, however, confident that it wa3 
impossible for the savage to untie himself, had only glanced 
now and then to see that he was there, his bronze-colored 
body being scarcely visible in the obscurity. 

As it grew darker, it was at length impossible for them to 
distinguish the captive from the brown surface of the ceiba, 
except by stooping down over him, and this both neglected 
to do. Little dreamt they of the sort of creature they were 
dealing with, who could have claimed rivalry with the most 
accomplished professors of the famous rope-tricks. 

As soon as he saw that the eyes of his sentinels were no 
longer upon him, he wriggled himself out of the sipos with as 
much ease as if he had been an eel, and, sliding gently from 
the log, swam off. 

It was a full half-hour after his departure before either of 
the sentinels thought of giving any attention to the state of 
their prisoner When they did so, it was to find him gone* 


270 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


and the coils of tree-rope lying loosely upon the log. With 
simultaneous exclamations of alarm, they turned towards 
Trevannion, and then all looked in the direction of the lagoa, 
thinking they might see a swimmer going out. Instead of 
that they saw, through the dim light, what appeared to be a 
fleet of canoes, with men in them violently wielding their 
oaddles, and directhig their crafts right into the arcade! 


CHAPTER LXXXIX. 

SCUTTLING THE CANOES. 

rpHE Munduructi and his young companion, having pad- 
j died their craft out of the little creek, turned its head 
towards the Mura village. Though the fires were no longer 
blazing so brightly as at an earlier hour of the night, there 
was still a red glow seen here and there, that told the posi¬ 
tion of the scaffolds, and served as a beacon to direct their 
course. But they needed no such pilotage. The border of 
the forest was their guide, and along this they went, taking 
care to keep close in under its shadow. It was dark enough 
out upon the open water to prevent their being observed; 
but the Mundurucu was accustomed to act with extreme cir¬ 
cumspection, and more than ever since the mistake we re¬ 
corded some time before. 

As the malocca was but a short distance from the forest 
border, the tree line would bring them close to its water 
frontage. Beyond that he could trust to the guidance of the 
surrounding fires. 

Less than half an hour’s use of the paddle — its blade 
dipped gently in the water — brought them within a hundred 
yards of the outskirts of the village. Although the expedi- 



SCUTTLING THE CANOES. 


271 


tion was not to end here, it was not their design to take the 
canv>e any farther I say their design, for by this time the 
young Paraense had been made acquainted with his compan¬ 
ion’s purpose. The chief reason why Munday had not dis¬ 
closed it to Trevannion was, that the patron, deeming it too 
dangerous, might have put a veto upon its execution. What 
this plan was, will be learnt by a relation of the mode in which 
it was carried out. 

Tying the canoe to a tree in such a way that they could 
easily detach it again, the two slipped over the gunwale, and 
laid themselves silently along the water. Each was provided 
with a swimming-belt; for the task they had undertaken 
might require them to remain a good while afloat; and, more¬ 
over, it would be necessary for them now and then to remain 
♦still, without making any noise by striking the water to sus¬ 
tain themselves, while, furthermore, they would need at times 
to have both arms free for a different purpose. Thus accou¬ 
tred, and Munday armed with his knife, they swam under the 
scaffolds. 

They Were careful not to cause the slightest commotion,— 
careful, too, to keep out of the narrow belts of light that fell 
slantingly from the fires above. These were becoming fewer, 
and fast fading, as the fires, one after another, went out. It 
appeared certain that the whole village was asleep. No hu¬ 
man form was seen, no voice heard; no sign of human be¬ 
ings, save the scaffolding that had been constructed by them, 
and the half-score of boats in the water underneath, moored 
to the trunks of the supporting trees. 

It was to these vessels that the Mundurucii was directing 
himself and his coadjutor. Though his eyes were every¬ 
where, his mind was fixed upon them. There were, in all, 
about half a score of them, six being igarites, or canoes rude¬ 
ly constructed of tree bark, similar in shape and fashion to 
that they had just parted from, but three of them of largter 
size, each capable of containing about eight men. The oth 


272 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


ers were large rafts or punts of rude fabrication, each big 
enough to support a toldo hut, with a whole family, and a 
number of friends to boot. 

Only to the canoes did the tapuyo direct his attention. On 
swimming past the punts he did not even stay to regard them. 
To all the igarites, however, except one, — and it the largest, 
--he paid a visit; stopping a considerable time alongside each, 
but lying so low in the water that only his head could have 
been seen above the surface, and scarcely that through the 
treble shadow of the night, the scaffolds, and the tree-tops. 
It was only visible to his companion, whose face was all the 
while within three feet of his own, and whose hands were 
employed in assisting him in his subtle task. What was this 
task, so silent and mysterious ? 

In each of the five canoes to which the swimmers had 
paid their silent visit, and just after their departure from it, 
could have been heard a gurgling sound, as of water gushing 
up through a hole in the bottQm. It was heaid, but only by 
him who had made the hole and the companion who had held 
the craft in its place while the knife-blade was accomplish¬ 
ing its purpose. To its sharp point the soft tree-bark had 
yielded, and in ten minutes’ time the five canoes, one after 
another, were scuttled, and, if left to themselves, in a fair 
way of going ta the bottom. 

But they were not left to themselves. They would have 
been, but for the negligence of Tom and the sable Mozam¬ 
bique. Just as the scuttlers had concluded their part of the 
task, and were about to climb into the sixth canoe, that had 
been left seaworthy, a dark form that might have been taken 
for some demon of the flood was seen to rise out of the wa¬ 
ter, and stand dripping upon one of the rafts. It stood only 
for a second or two,—just long enough to draw breath,— 
and then, laying hold of a knotted lliana that formed a sort 
of stair, it climbed to the scaffolding above. 

Dim as the light, the Mundurucii recognized tbs drip- 


SCUTTLING THE CANOES. 


273 


ping climber as the captive he had left on the log. “ Santos 
dios!” he muttered, in a hoarse whisper, “’t is the Mura. 
They’ve let him escape, and now we ’re discovered. Quick, 
young master. Into the igaritd. All right; there are two 
paddles : you take one, I the other. There’s not a moment 
to be lost. In ten minutes more we should have been safe; 
but now — see! they are filling fast. Good! If he gives 
ns but ten minutes before raising the alarm — Ha ! there it 
is. Off! off!” 

While the tapuyo was speaking, still in a muttered under¬ 
tone, a wild yell was heard upon the scaffolding above. It 
was a signal sent forth by the returned captive to warn his 
slumbering nation, not that their navy was being scattered in 
its very dock by an unknown enemy, for he had neither seen 
the scuttler nor suspected what had been going on, but sim¬ 
ply to tell his tribe of the adventure that had befallen himself, 
and conduct them in all haste to the spot where he had 
parted from his detested but careless captors. He had seen 
the two of them go off in the igarite, impudently appropriat¬ 
ing his own vessel' before his face. Where could they have 
gone, but to make a nocturnal investigation of the malocca ? 

It was for this reason he had himself approached it so 
stealthily, not raising any note of alarm until he felt safe 
upon the scaffolding of his own habitation. Then did he send 
forth that horrid haloo-loo. 

Scarce had its echoes ceased to reverberate through the vil¬ 
lage, when it was answered by a hundred voices, all shouting 
in a similar strain, all giving a response to the tribe’s cry of 
alarm. Men could be heard springing from their hammocks, 
and dropping down upon the platforms, the timbers of which 
creaked under quick, resonant footsteps. In the dim light some 
were seen hastily snatching up their bows, and preparing to 
descend to their canoes, little suspecting that they would find 
them scuttled and already half swamped. 

As Munday had said, there was not a moment to be lost 

12* K 


274 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


and, acting up to his words, he did not permit one to be lobv. 
In the large igaritd propelled by the two paddles, he and his 
assistant stole off among the trees, and were soon out upon 
the lagoa, pulling, as fast as their strength and skill would 
permit them, in the direction of the creek. 


CHAPTER XC. 

THE LOG LEFT BEHIND. 

rriHE escape of their captive had caused the keenest Ap- 
I prehensions to the people upon the raft, which were 
scarce intensified at the sight of the canoe entering the ar¬ 
cade. 

By the simplest reasoning they had leaped to the quick 
conclusion that the latter was but the sequence of the former. 
The Mura had swum back to his malocca. They knew he 
could easily do it. He had warned his kindred, and it was 
they who now manned the igarite that was making approach. 
It was only the first of a whole fleet. No doubt there was 
a score of others coming on behind, each containing its com¬ 
plement of cannibals. The manatee-hunter had got back to 
his village in time to tell t)f the two who had gone there in 
his own canoe. These, unaware of his escape, had, in all 
probability, been surprised and taken prisoners. Shouts had 
been heard from the village just before the man was missed. 
It was this, in fact, that had caused them to think of their 
prisoner. On finding that he had given them the slip, they in¬ 
terpreted these shouts in two ways. They were either salu¬ 
tations of welcome to the returned captive, or cries of triumph 
over the death or capture of the tapuyo and his companion. 

More like the latter. So thought they upon the log; and 



THE LOG LEFT BEHIND. 


275 


ihe thought was strengthened by the appearance of the big 
canoe at the entrance of the arcade. Its crew were Mura 
savages, guided to their place of concealment by him who 
had stolen away. 

These conjectures, varied though they were, passed through 
their minds with the rapidity of thought itself; for scarce ten 
seconds had elapsed from the time of their sighting the canoe 
jntil it was close up to the ceiba. 

Then to their great joy, they saw they had been reasoning 
wrongly. The two forms had been magnified into ten, partly 
through the deception of the dim light, and partly because 
they had been springing from side to side while paddling the 
canoe and steering it into the creek. 

As they drew near, the Qthers could see that they were in 
* state of the wildest excitement, working with all their 
strength, and gazing anxiously behind them. 

“ Quick, uncle,” cried Richard, as the igarite struck against 
the dead-wood. “ Quick ! all of you get aboard here.” 

“ Pa terra! ” added the tapuyo. “ Do as he tells you. 
By letting your prisoner get off you’ve spoiled my plans. 
There’s no time to talk now. Into the igarite! If the 
Dthers are still afloat — then — then — Haste, patron ! 
Everybody into the igarite! ” 

As the Indian gave these directions, he himself sprang on 
to the log; and tearing down the skin sail, he flung it into 
the canoe. After it he pitched several pieces of the charqui, 
and then descended himself. 

By this time all the others had taken their seats in the 
canoe, Richard having caught little Rosa in his arms as she 
sprang down. 

There was not a moment of delay. The two paddles 
belonging to the igarite were grasped, one by Munday him¬ 
self, the other by the negro, who was next best rower, while 
the two bladed with the bones of the cow-fish were in the 
hands of Trevannion and his nephew. 


276 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


There were thus four available oars to the craft, that 
promised a fair degree of speed. 

With a last look at the log that had carried them safely, 
though slowly, — a look that, under other circumstances, 
might have been given with regret, — they parted from it, 
and in a score of seconds they had cleared the craft from the 
branches of the trees, and were out upon the bosom of the 
lagoa. 

“ In what direction ? ” inquired Trevannion, as for a mo¬ 
ment their strokes were suspended. 

“ Stay a minute, patron,” replied the tapuyo, as he stood 
up in the igarite and gazed over the water in the direction 
of the Mura village. “ Before starting, it’s as well to know 
whether they are able to follow us. If not, it’s no use kill¬ 
ing ourselves by hard work.” 

“You think there’s a chance they may not come after us?” 

“ A chance, — yes. It would have been a certainty if 
you had not let that ape loose. We should now be as safe 
from pursuit as if a hundred leagues lay between us and 
them. As it is, I have my fears ; there was not time for 
them to go down, — not all of them. The small ones may, 
but the big igarite, — it would be still afloat; they could 
bale out and calk up again. After all, it won’t carry the 
whole tribe, and there’s something in that, — there’s some¬ 
thing in that.” 

While the tapuyo thus talked he was standing with his 
head craned out beyond the edge of the igarite, scanning the 
water in the direction of the village. His final words were 
but the involuntary utterance of what was passing in his 
mind, and not addressed to his companions. Richard alone 
knew the meaning, for as yet the others had received no 
explanation of what had passed undqr the scaffolds. There 
was no time to give a detailed account of that. It would 1 m* 
soon enough when the igaritd was fairly on its way,* and 
they became assured of their safety. 


THE LOG LEFT BEHIND. 


277 


No one pressed for an explanation. All, even Tie^annion 
himself, felt humiliated by the thought that they had neglected 
their duty, and the knowledge that but for that very neglect 
the danger that threatened them would have been now at 
an end. 

The dawn was already beginning to appear along the 
eastern horizon, and although it was far from daylight, there 
was no longer the deep darkness that but a short while be¬ 
fore shrouded the water. Out on the lagoa, at any point 
within the circumference of a mile, a large object, such as a 
canoe, could have been seen. There was none in sight. 

This looked well. Perfect stillness reigned around the 
Mura village. There was no human voice to be heard, where 
but the moment before there had been shouting and loud talk¬ 
ing, both men and women taking part in what appeared a 
confused conversation. The fires, too, were out, or at all 
events no longer visible from the lagoa. 

Munday remarked that the silence augured ill. “ I fear 
they are too busy to be making a noise,” said he. “ Their 
keeping quiet argues that they have the means, as well as 
the intention, to come after us. If they had not, you would 
hear their howls of disappointment. Yes : we may be sure 
of it. They ’re emptying such of their canoes as may still 
be above water.” 

“ Emptying their canoes ! what mean you by that ? ” 

Munday then explained the nature of his late expedition, 
now that its failure could no longer be charged upon himself. 
A few words sufficed to make the whole thing understood, 
the others admiring the bold ingenuity of the plan as strongly 
as they regretted having given cause for its being frustrated. 

Though no pursuers had as yet appeared, that was no rea¬ 
son why they should, stay an instant longer by the entrance 
to the arcade ; so, once more handling the paddies, they pui 
the great igaritti to its best speed. 


278 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XCI. 


THE ENEMY IN SIGHT 


HIE RE was no debating the question as to the course 



I they should take. This was opposite to the direction 
in which lay the malocca. In other words, they struck out 
for the open water, almost in the same track by which they 
had come from the other side while navigating the tree-trunk. 

Trevannion had suggested keeping “ in shore ” and undei 
the shadow of the tree-tops. 

“ No use,” said the tapuyo ; “ in ten minutes more there 
will be light over the water. We ’ll be seen all the same, 
and by following the line of the forest we should give our 
pursuers the advantage; they, by keeping straight across, 
would easily overtake us. The trees go round in a circle, 
don’t you see ? ” 

“ True,” replied Trevannion ; “ I did not think of that. 
It is to be hoped we shall not have pursuers.” 

“If we have they will soon come up with us, for they have 
more paddles, and are better skilled in the use of them; if 
they come after us at all, they will be sure to overtake us.” 

“ Then we shall be captured, — perhaps destroyed.” This 
was spoken in a whisper in the ear of the tapuyo. 

“ It don’t follow, — one or the other. If it did, I should n’t 
have much hope in handling this bit of a stick. We may be 
pursued, overtaken, and still get . off in the end. They may 
not like close quarters any more than we. That, you see, 
depends on how many of their vessels are gone to the bottom, 
and how many are still afloat. If more than half that were 
scuttled have sunk, we may dread their arrows more than 
their oars. If more than half are above water, we shall be 
in more danger from their speed.” 

Notwithstanding the enigmatical character of the tapuyo’s 


THE ENEMY IN SIGHT. 


279 


ipccches, Trevannion, as well as the others, was able to un¬ 
derstand them. He simply meant that, if the enemy were 
left without a sufficient number of canoes to pursue them in 
large force, they would not think of boarding, but would keep 
at a distance, using their arrows in the attack. 

It was by no means a pleasant prospect; still, it was pleas¬ 
anter than the thought ot coining to close quarters w»*.h a 
crowd of cannibal savages, and being either hacked to pieces 
with their knives, clubbed to death with their macatias, or 
dragged overboard and drowned in the la^oa. 

“In five minutes more,” continued the tapuyo, “ we shall 
know the best or the worst. By that time it will be light 
enough to see in under the trees yonder. By that time, if 
they have a single igarite above water, she ’ll be baled out. 
By that time they should be after us. If we don’t see them 
in five minutes, we need never look for them again.” 

A minute — another — a third elapsed, and still no ap¬ 
pearance of pursuers or pursuit. Slower still seemed the 
fourth, though it too passed, and no movement on the water. 
Every heart beat with hope that the time would transpire 
without any change. But, alas ! it was not to be so. The 
black line was broken by the bow of a canoe, and in an 
instant after the craft itself was seen gliding out from under 
the shadow of the trees. The tapuyo’s prediction was ful¬ 
filled. 

“The big igarite!” he exclaimed. “Just what I had 
fears of; I doubted its going down in time. Eight in it! 
Well, that’s nothing, if the others have sunk.” 

“But stay a moment,” returned Richard; “see yonder! 
Another coming out. farther down to the right! ” 

“ That \s the cockle-shell we took from the harpooner. 
There are two in it, which is all it will hold. Only ten, as 
yet. Good ! if that’s their whole strength, we need n’t feaf 
their coming to close quarters. Good ! ” 

* I can make out no more,” said the young Paraense, who 



280 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


had suspended paddling to get a better view of the pursuers, 
“ I think there are no more.” 

“Just my thoughts,” rejoined the tapuyo. “I had that 
idea all along. I was sure the small craft had gone down. 
Yuii remember we heard a splashing before we got well off, 
— it was caused by the sinking of the igarites. Our hope is 
that only the big one has kept afloat. As yet I see no 
others.” 

“Nor I,” added Richard. “ No, there are but the two.” 

“ Thank Heaven for that ! ” exclaimed Trevannion 
“There will be but ten against us. Though we are not 
equal in numbers, surely we should be a match for such 
puny savages as these. O that we only had arms ! ” 

As he said this, the ex-miner looked into the bottom of the 
canoe to see what there was available in the way of weapons. 
There was the pashuba spear, which Munday had pitched in 
along with the strips of charqui; and there was another 
weapon equally effective in hands skilled in its use. It was 
a sort of barbed javelin or harpoon, the one with which the 
manatee-hunter had struck the jua v oua. During the day, 
while doing nothing else, Munday had amused himself by 
completing the conquest of the peixe-boi, which he found, by 
the line and float, had got entangled among the tree-tops. 
Its carcass had been left where it was killed, for it was the 
weapon only which he coveted. In addition to these, there 
were the paddles, — those manufactured from the shoulder- 
blades of the cow-fish, — looking like weapons that it would 
be awkward to have come in contact with one’s skull in a 
hostile encounter. Last, and not least to be depended upon, 
there was the tapuyo’s own knife, in the use of which he had 
already given proofs of his skill. In a hand-to-hand contest 
with ten savages, armed as these might be, there was not so 
much to be dreaded. 

But Monday assured them that there would be no danger 
of a close fight. There were no more canoes in sight. Twenty 


THE CHASE. 


281 


minutes had now elapsed since the two had shot out from 
the trees, and if there had been others they would long 
since have declared themselves. Arrows or javelins were the 
only weapons they would have to dread; and with these 
they would most certainly be assailed. 

“ They ’ll be sure to overtake us,” said he ; “ there are six 
of them at the paddles, and it’s easy to see that they ’re al¬ 
ready gaining ground. That’s no reason why we should wait 
till they come up. When the fight takes place, the farther 
we ’re away from their village the better for us; as who knows 
but they may fish up some of their swamped canoes, and come 
at us with a reserve force. To the paddles, then, and pull 
for our lives!” 


CHAPTER XCII. 


THE CHASE. 


N swept the igarit^ containing the crew of our advenfur- 



u ers ; on came its kindred craft, manned by savage men, 
with the little canoe close following, like a tender in the wake 
of a huge man-of-war. They were not long in doubt as to 
what would be the upshot of the chase. It had not continued 
half an hour before it became clear, to pursuers as well as 
pursued, that the distance between the two large igarit& 
was gradually growing less. Gradually, but not rapidly \ 
for although there were six paddles plying along the sides 
of the pursuers and only four on the pursued, the rate of 
speed was not so very unequal. 

The eight full-grown savages — no doubt the picked men 
of their tribe — were more than a fair complement for their 
craft, that lay with gunwales low down in the water. In size 
*he was somewhat less than that which carried our adventur 



282 


AFLOAT IN THE 1-OKES1'. 


ers ; and this, along with the heavier freight, was against her. 
For all this, she was gaining ground sufficiently fast to make 
the lessening of the distance perceptible. 

The pursued kept perfect silence, for they had no spirit to 
be noisy. They could not help feeling apprehensive. They 
knew that the moment the enemy got within arrow’s reach of 
them they would be in danger of death. Well might such a 
thought account for their silence. 

Not so with their savage pursuers. These could be in 
no danger unless by their own choice. They had the advan¬ 
tage, and could carry on war with perfect security to them¬ 
selves. It would not be necessary for them to risk an en¬ 
counter empty-handed so long as their arrows lasted; and 
they could have no fear of entering into the fight. Daring 
where there was no danger, and noisy where there was no 
occasion, they pressed on in the pursuit, their wild yells sent 
pealing across the water to strike terror into the hearts of the 
enemy. 

Our adventurers felt no craven fear, not a thought of sur¬ 
render, not an idea of submitting to be taken captives. By 
the most solemn asseverations the tapuyo had assured them 
th^t it would be of no use, and they need expect no mercy 
from the Muras. He had said so from the first; but now, 
after having taken one of their number captive and treated 
him with contempt, after scuttling their fleet of igarites, their 
natural instinct of cruelty would be intensified by a thirst for 
revenge, and no quarter need be looked for by any one who 
might fall into their hands. 

Remembering the hideous creature who had escaped, see¬ 
ing him again in his canoe as the pursuers came within dis¬ 
tinguishing distance, seeing nine of his comrades quite as 
hideous as himself, and some of them in appearance far more 
formidable, the statement of the tapuyo did not fail to have 
an effect. 

The crew of the chased igarit^ gave up all thought of sur- 


THE CHASE. 


28a 

render, each declaring his determination to fight to the death. 
Such svas their mood when the savages arrived within bow¬ 
shot. 

The first act of hostility was a flight of arrows, which fell 
short of the mark. Seeing that the distance was too great 
for them to do any havoc, the six who had been propelling 
the igarite dropped their bows, and once more took to the 
paddles. 

The other two, however, with the spare man in the little 
canoe, were free to carry on their arrowy assault; and all 
three continued to twang their bows, sending shaft after shaft 
towards the chased igarite. Only one of the three appeared 
to have much skill in his aim or strength in his arm. The 
arrows of the other two either fell short or wide of the object 
aimed at, while his came plump into the igaritd. 

He had already sent three, — the first passing through the 
broad-spread ear of the negro, — no mean mark ; the second 
scratching up the skin upon Tom’s cheek; while the third, 
fired aloft into the air, dropped down upon the skin of the 
peixe-boi that sheltered little Rosa in the bottom of the boat, 
penetrating the thick, tough hide, and almost impaling the 
pretty creature underneath it. 

This dangerous marksman was identified. He was the 
liero of the harpoon, — the captive who had given them the 
slip; and certain it is that he took more pains with his aim, 
and put more strength into his pull, than any of his competi¬ 
tors. 

His fourth arrow was looked for with fearful apprehension. 
It came whistling across the water. It passed through the 
arm of his greatest enemy, — the man he most desired it to 
pierce, — the Mundurucu. 

The thpuyo started up from his stooping attitude, at the 
same time dropping his paddle, not upon the water, but into 
the igarite. The arrow was only through the flesh. It did 
nothing to disable him, and he had surrendered the oar with 


284 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


an exclamation of anger more than pain. The 3haft was still 
sticking in his left arm. With the right he pulled it out, 
drawing the feather through the wound, and then flung it 
away. 

In another instant he had taken up the harpoon, with the 
long cord still attached to it, and which he had already se¬ 
cured to the stern of the igarite. In still another he was seen 
standing near the stern, balancing the weapon for a throw. 
One more instant and the barbed javelin was heard passing 
with a crash through the ribs of the savage archer! “ Pull 

on ! pull on! ” cried he; and the three paddlers responded to 
the cry, while the pusuing savages, astounded by wlfat they 
had seen, involuntarily suspended their stroke, and the har- 
pooner, impaled upon the barbed weapon, was jerked into the 
water and towed off after the igarite, like one of his own floats 
in the wake of a cow-fish. 

A wild cry was sent forth from the canoe of the savages. 
Nor was it unanswered from the igarite containing the crew 
of civilized men. The negro could not restrain his exulta¬ 
tion ; while Tom, who had nothing else to do, sprang to his 
feet, tossed* his arms into the air, and gave tongue to the true 
Donnybrook Challenge. 

For a time the pursuers did nothing. Their paddles were 
in hands that appeared suddenly paralyzed. Astonishment 
held them stiff as statues. 

Stirred at length by the instinct of revenge, they were 
about to pull on. Some had plunged their oar-blades into 
the water, when once more the stroke was suspended. 

They perceived that they were near enough to the retreat¬ 
ing foe. Nearer, and their lives would be in danger. The 
dead body of their comrade had been hauled up to the stern 
of the great igarite. The harpoon had been recovered, and 
was once more in the hands of him who had hurled it with 
such fatal effect. 

Dropping their bladed sticks, they again betook them to 


THE CHASE. 


283 


their bows. A shower of arrows came around the igarit^, 
but none fell with fatal effect. The body of their best archer 
had gone to the bottom of the Gapo. Another flight fell 
short, and the savage bowmen saw the necessity of returning 
to their paddles. 

Failing to do so, they would soon be distanced in the chase. 
This time they rowed nearer, disregarding the dangerous 
range of that ponderous projectile to which their comrade 
had succumbed, llage and revenge now rendered them reck¬ 
less ; and once more they seized upon their weapons. 

They were now less than twenty yards from the igarit& 
They were already adjusting the arrows to their bow-strings. 
A flight of nine going all together could not fail to bring 
down one or more of the enemy. 

For the first time our adventurers were filled with fear. 
The bravest could not have been otherwise. They had no 
defence, — nothing to shield them from the threatening show¬ 
er. All might be pierced by the barbed shafts, already 
pointing towards the igarite. Each believed that in another 
moment there might be an arrow through his heart. 

It was a moment of terrible suspense, but our adventurers 
saw the savages suddenly drop their bows, some after send¬ 
ing a careless shot, with a vacillating, pusillanimous aim, and 
others without shooting at all. They saw them all looking 
down into the bottom of their boat, as if there, and not else¬ 
where, was to be seen their most dangerous enemy. 

The hole cut by the knife had opened. The calking, care¬ 
less from the haste in which it had been done, had come away. 
The canoe containing the pursuers was swamped, in less 
than a score of seconds after the leak had been discovered. 
Now there was but one large canoe upon the, lagoa, and one 
small one, — the latter surrounded by eight dark human 
heads, each spurting and blowing, as if a small school of 
porpoises was at play upon the spot. 

Our adventurers had nothing further to fear from pur- 


286 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


suit by the savages, who would have enough to do to sav« 
their own lives; for the swim that was before them, ere they 
could recover footing upon the scaffolds of the maloeca, 
would tax their powers to the utmost extent. 

How the castaways meant to dispose of themselves was 
known to the crew of the igarite before the latter had been 
paddled out of sight. One or two of them were observed 
clinging to the little canoe, and at length getting into it* 
These, weak swimmers, no doubt, were left in possession of 
the craft, while the others, knowing that it could not carry 
them all, were seen to turn round and swim off towards the 
malocca, like rats escaping from a scuttled ship. 

In twenty minutes’ time, both they and the fishing-canoe 
were out of sight, and the great igarite that carried Trevan- 
nion and his fortunes was alone upon the lagoa. 


CHAPTER XCIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

A VOLUME might be filled with the various incidents 
and adventures that befell the ex-miner and his people 
before they arrived at Gran Para,—for at Gran Para did they 
at length arrive. But as these bore a certain resemblance to 
those already detailed, the reader is spared the relation of 
them. A word only as to how they got out of the Gapo. 

Provided with the Indian igarite, which, though a rude 
kind of craft, was a great improvement upon the dead-wood, 
— provided also with four tolerable paddles, and the skin of 
the cow-fish for a sail, — they felt secure of being able to 
navigate the flooded forest in any direction where open 
water might be found. 




CONCLUSION. 


287 


Their first thought was to get out of the lagoa. So long 
as they remained within the boundaries of^that piece of open 
water, so long would their solicitude be keen and continuous. 
The savages might again come in search of them. Prompted 
by their cannibal instincts, or by revenge for the loss of one 
of their tribe, they would be almost certain to do so. The to¬ 
tal destruction of their fleet might cause delay. But then 
there might be another malocca belonging to a kindred tribe, 
— another fleet of igaritds not far off; and this might be 
made available. 

With these probabilities in view, our adventurers gave 
their whole attention to getting clear of the lagoa. Was it 
land-locked, or rather “ tree-locked,” — hemmed in on all 
Bides by the flooded forest? This was a question that no 
one could answer, though it was the one that was of first 
and greatest importance. 

After the termination of the chase, however, or as soon 
as they believed themselves out of sight, not only of their 
foiled foemen, but their friends at the malocca, they changed 
their course, steering the igaritd almost at right angles to 
the line of pursuit. 

By guidance of the hand of God, they steered in the 
right direction. As soon as they came within sight of the 
trees, they perceived a wide water-way opening out of the 
lagoa, and running with a clear line to the horizon beyond. 
Through this they directed the igaraite, and, favored by a 
breeze blowing right upon their stern, they rigged up their 
rude sail. With this to assist their paddling, they made good 
speed, and had soon left the lagoa many miles behind them. 

They saw no more of the Muras. But though safe, as 
they supposed themselves, from pursuit, and no longer un¬ 
easy about the ape-like Indians, they weie still very far 
from being delivered. They were yet in the Gapo, — that 
wilderness of water-forests, — yet exposed to its thousands 
of dangers. 


288 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


They found themselves in a labyrinth of what appeared to 
be lakes, with land around them, and islands scattered over 
their surface, communicating with each other by canals or 
straits, all bordered with a heavy forest. But they knew 
there was no land, — nothing but tree-tops laced together 
with llianas, and supporting heavy masses of parasitical 
plants. 

For days they? wandered through its wild solitudes, here 
crossing a stretch of open water, there exploring some wide 
canal or narrow igarape, perhaps to find it terminating in a 
cul-de-sac, or bolson, as the Spaniards term it, hemmed in 
on all sides by an impenetrable thicket of tree-tops, when 
there was no alternative but to paddle back again. Some¬ 
times these false thoroughfares would lure them on for miles, 
and several hours — on one occasion a whole day — would 
be spent in fruitless navigation. 

It was a true wilderness through which they were wan¬ 
dering, but fortunately for them it had a character different 
from that of a desert. So far from this, it more resembled 
a grand garden, or orchard, laid for a time under inundation. 

Many kinds of fruits were met with, — strange kinds that 
had never been seen by them before; and upon some of 
these they subsisted. The Mundurucu alone knew them, — 
could tell which were to be eaten and which avoided. Birds, 
too, came in their way, all eaten by the Indians, as also va¬ 
rious species of arboreal quadrupeds and quadrumana. The 
killing and capturing of these, with the gathering of nuts 
and fruits to supply their simple larder, afforded them fre¬ 
quent opportunities of amusement, that did much to beguile 
the tediousness of their trackless straying. Otherwise it 
would have been insupportable; otherwise they would have 
starved. 

None of them afterwards was ever able to tell how long 
this Gypsy life continued, — how ong they were afloat in 
the forest. Engrossed with the thought of getting out of 


CONCLUSION. 


289 


it, they took no note of time, nor made registry of the num¬ 
ber of suns that rose and set upon their tortuous wanderings. 
There were days in which they saw not the sun, hidden from 
their sight by the umbrageous canopy of gigantic trees 
amidst the trunks of which, and under their deep shadows, 
they rowed the igarite. 

But if not known how long they roamed through this wil-^ 
derness, much less can it be told how long they might have 
remained within its mazes, but for a heaven-sent vision that 
one morning broke upon their eyes as their canoe shot out 
into a stretch of open water. 

They saw a ship, —a ship sailing through the forest! 

True, it was not a grand ship of the ocean, — a seventy- 
four, a frigate, or a trader of a thousand tons; nevertheless it 
was a ship, in the general acceptation of the term, with hull, 
masts, spars, sails, and rigging. It was a two-masted schoon¬ 
er, a trader of the Solimoes. 

The old tapuyo knew it at a glance, and hailed it with a 
cheer. He knew the character of the craft. In such he 
had spent some of the best years of his life, himself one 
of the crew. Its presence was proof that they were once 
more upon their way, as the schooner was upon hers. 

“Going down,” said the tapuyo, “going down to Gran 
Para. I can tell by the way she is laden. Look yonder. 
Sarsaparilla , Vanilla , Cascarilla , Maulega de Tortugos , 
Sapucoy, and Tonka beans, — all will be found under that 
toldo of palm-leaves. Galliota ahoy! ahoy! ” 

The schooner was within short hailing distance. 

“ Lay to, and take passengers aboard! We want to go 
to Para. Our craft is n’t suited for such a long voyage.” 

The galliota answered the hail, and in ten minutes after 
the crew of the igarite was transferred to her decks. The 
canoe was abandoned, while the schooner continued on to the 
city of Gran Para. She was not in the Solimoes itself, but 
one of its parallel branches, though, in two days after having 
U » 


290 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


taken the castaways aboard, she sailed out into the n.ain 
stream, and thence glided merrily downward. 

Those aboard of her were not the less gay, — the crow on 
discovering that among the passengers that they had picked 
up were the son and brother of their patron ; and the passen¬ 
gers, that the craft that was carrying them to Gran Para, as 
well as her cargo, was the property of Trevannion. The 
young Paraense found himself on board one of his father’s 
traders, while the ex-miner was completing his Amazonian 
voyage in a “ bottom ” belonging to his brother. 

The tender attention which they received from the capatoz 
of the galliota restored their health and spirits, both sadly 
shattered in the Gapo ; and instead of the robber’s garb and 
savage mien with which they emerged from that sombre 
abode, fit only for the abiding-place of beasts, birds, and rep¬ 
tiles, they soon recovered the cheerful looks and decent 
habiliments that befitted them for a return to civilization. 

A few words will tell the rest of this story. 

The brothers, once more united, — each the owner of a son 
and daughter, — returned to their native land. Both wid¬ 
owers, they agreed to share the same roof, —that under 
which they had been born. The legal usurper could no 
longer keep them out of it. He was dead. 

He had left behind him an only son, not a gentleman like 
himself, but a spendthrift. It ended in the ill-gotten patri¬ 
mony coming once more into the market and under the ham¬ 
mer, the two Trevannions arriving just in time to arrest its 
descent upon the desk, and turn the “going, going” into 
a gone ” in their own favor. 

Though the estate became afterwards divided into two 
equal portions, — as nearly equal as the valuer could allot 
them, — and under separate owners, still was there no change 
in the name of the property ; still was it the Trevannion 
estate. The owner of each moiety was a Trevannion, and 



CONCLUSION. 


291 


the wife of each owner was a Trevannion, without ever hav¬ 
ing changed her name. There is no puzzle in this. The 
young Paraense had a sister, — spoken of, but much neg¬ 
lected, in this eventful narrative, where not even her name 
has been made known. Only has it been stated that she was 
one of “ several sweet children.” 

Be it now known that she grew up to be a beautiful wo¬ 
man, fair-haired,, like her mother, and that her name was 
Florence. Much as her brother Richard, also fair-haired, 
came to love her dark semi-Spanish cousin Rosita, so did her 
other dark semi-Spanish cousin, Ralph, come to love her; 
and as both she and Rosita reciprocated these cousinly loves, 
it ended in a mutual bestowing of sisters, or a sort of cross¬ 
hands and change-partners game of cousins, — whichever 
way you like to have it. 

At all events, the Trevannion estates remained, and still 
remain, in the keeping of Trevannions. 

Were you to take a trip to the “ Land’s End,” and visit 
them, — supposing yourself to be indorsed with an introduc¬ 
tion from me, — you would find in the house of young Ralph, 
firstly, his father, old Ralph, gracefully enacting the role of 
grandfather ; secondly, the fair Florence, surrounded by sev¬ 
eral olive-shoots of the Trevannion stock ; and, lastly, — nay, 
it is most likely you will meet him first, for he will take your 
hat from you in the hall, — an individual with a crop of car¬ 
roty hair, fast changing to the color of turnips. You will 
know him as Tipperary Tom. “ Truth will yez.” 

Cross half a dozen lields, climb over a stile, under the 
shadow of gigantic trees, — oaks and elms; pass along a 
plank foot-bridge spanning a crystal stream full of carp and 
trout; go through a wicket-gate into a splendid park, and 
then follow a gravelled walk that leads up to the walls of 
a mansion. You can only do this coming from the other 
house, for the path thus indicated is not a “ right of way.” 

Enter the dwelling to which it has guided you. Inside 


292 


AFLOAT IN THE FOREST. 


you will encounter, first, a well-dressed darkey, who bids 
you welcome with all the airs of an M. C. This respectable 
Ethiopian, venerable in look — partly on account of his age, 
partly from the blanching of his black hair — is an old ac¬ 
quaintance, by name Mozey. 

lie summons his master to your side. You cannot mis¬ 
take that handsome gentleman, though he is years older than 
when you last saw him. The same open countenance, the 
same well-knit, vigorous frame, which, even as a boy, were 
the characteristics of the young Paraense. 

No more can you have forgotten that elegant lady who 
stands by his side, and who, following the fashion of her 
Spanish-American race, frankly and without affectation comes 
forth to greet you. No longer the little Rosa, the protegee 
of Richard, but now his wife, with other little Rosas and 
Richards, promising soon to be as big as herself, and as 
handsome as her husband. 

The tableau is almost complete as a still older Richard 
appears in the background, regarding with a satisfied air 
his children and grandchildren, while saluting their guest 
with a graceful gesture of welcome. 

Almost complete, but not quite. A figure is absent from 
the canvas, hitherto prominent in the picture. Why is it 
not still seen in the foreground? Has death claimed the 
tapuyo for his own ? 

Not a bit of it. Still vigorous, still life-like as ever, lie 
may be seen any day upon the Amazon, upon the deck of a 
galliota, no longer in the humble capacity of a tapuyo, but 
acting as capatoz , — as patron. 

His old patron had not been ungrateful; and the gift of 
a schooner was the reward bestowed upon the guide who 
had so gallantly conducted our adventurers through the dan¬ 
gers of the Gapo, and shared their perils while they were 
u AFLOAT IN THE FOREST.” 

THE END. 

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